


Wouldn't It Be Good

by InkGhost



Category: Video Blogging RPF, jacksepticeye, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1970s, Blood, Getting to Know Each Other, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Panic Attacks, Past Drug Addiction, Past Drug Use, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Relationship(s), Past Violence, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, References to Depression
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-10
Updated: 2017-10-06
Packaged: 2018-05-13 00:58:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 63,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5688454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkGhost/pseuds/InkGhost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A horrific experience has left Mark damaged so he flees to a remote town in Ireland looking for peace and solitude. He ends up meeting a local Irishman who's own past experiences has left him just as hurt as Mark is. Both men may not be the most stable things they would want in there already shattered lives, yet they might need each other a lot more then they both want to admit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Gimme Shelter

**Author's Note:**

> First chapter, yay! There will be additional warnings as the story goes on, so I'm just throwing that out there now.
> 
> Any who, here get's this story going! 
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: Mild panic attack, triggering flashback, and ambiguous suicide attempt.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If I don't get some shelter
> 
> Oh yeah, I'm gonna fade away.
> 
> -The Rolling Stones 
> 
>  

 

  There was a cold breeze when Mark stepped out of the small cab and onto the cobbled streets of the remote Irish town. The town itself was an old one, with it’s small buildings and wooden structures all squeezed together like a family in a tight embrace, as they stood along the uneven sidewalks. Some of them were buildings used for housing, while others were old shops and pubs with decorative wooden signs that hung proudly from iron hinges that stood out from the brick walls like protruding arms. The sky was a solid sheet of grey and laced with mist, and the air smelled faintly of the ocean, and yet, even with all it’s rustic charm, the area still bore the unavoidable touch of modernism. Cars and street lamps were found around almost every corner of the streets, while citizens were walking up and down the cobblestones in clothes that looked all too familiar to the ones worn in Mark’s hometown of Cincinnati. It truly was the perfect blend of old and new, this little town. It was unlike anything Mark had ever seen before and he couldn’t wait a second longer to get settled into his new environment once and for all. 

Dragging his luggage behind him, Mark made his way down a small street corner where a small hostel resided. Sleepy Moores, at least that's what the large wooden sign hanging above it's door said. Like everything else in the town, it was a tiny building that stood no more than four stories tall, but it was still a welcoming one nevertheless. Mark walked through the old, wooden door and was quickly greeted by a rush of warm air as he made his way inside. He looked around the small living space cluttered with large, worn out couches and lounge chairs filled with travelers young and old. Some spoke English, while others spoke in languages that sounded so foreign to Mark that it was hard to believe they were real. All of them seemed content with one another as they huddled together close to the fire, some laughing, others engaged in conversation, and even a few that were deep in thought as they either listened or eavesdropped on the more talkative travelers they sat beside. 

Mark started to wonder just where all these people came from and why they would decide to come here of all places. What were their final destinations and what were their stories? Were some of them just thrill-seekers looking for a bit of excitement? Did some of them come from troubled homes, perhaps runaways? Were any of them trying to escape from something: a hostile house or a scorned lover? Mark didn’t know and, despite his curiosity, he didn’t want to bring himself to care.  

“Ah, hello sir!” cried a loud voice that caused Mark to nearly flinch. Behind the counter was a tall, slender built man who looked not young but certainly not quite old enough to be considered middle-aged. He had thinning brown hair, a long face, and jolly green eyes that made him seem  more lively then his physical appearance cared to let on. **  
**

 “Oh uh... hi,” Mark greeted back as he walked closer to the counter. “I was wondering if anyone was here.”

“Well wonder no further! If it’s a room you're looking for then you’ve come to the right place!” The man clasped his hands together enthusiastically. The sound was enough to make Mark’s heart race. No, now was not the time for that. Just breathe, Mark told himself, if he just kept breathing he'd okay. It was just a hand clap, a fucking hand clap.

“The name’s Malcolm, by the way.” Malcolm seemed to have taken no notice of Mark’s predicament. “And you are... heh, hey you feeling okay there, lad?”

Mark forced himself to look up at Malcolm as he spoke. His breathing was just under enough control for him to reply. 

“N-no, I’m fine.” Mark sighed. “Just short of breath, that’s all.”

He was lying through his teeth, but it was the only defense Mark had at the moment. He couldn’t explain the truth and he didn’t want to. It was just another can of worms that he didn't feel like opening.

Malcolm gave him a sympathetic smile. “I can get you a drink of water if you'd like?”

“No thank you, it’s fine.” Mark ran a hand through his hair and sighed once again. “My name is Mark Fischbach.”    

“Well then, Mr. Fischbach, welcome to Sleepy Moores!” Malcolm grinned. “If there’s anything you need, you just come to me and I’ll make it happen. If there’s anything you wanna know about the town or where you can go, just give me a call and I’ll tell you everything!"  

“Oh, that’s great. Thank you.” Mark forced himself to smile, mostly out of politeness over anything else. He still wasn’t sure what to make of Malcolm. He was loud, that’s for sure, but being loud wasn’t something that made Mark connect with people.    

“So, that being said, want to tell me how long you’ll be staying?” Malcolm reached under to counter to pull out his book of check-ins. “Most people stay here no longer than three weeks, but if you wanna stay here for a longer or shorter period, I could write you up for that! Whatever works for you!” 

“Actually.” Mark paused for a moment. “Do you... have anything a bit more permanent?”

Malcolm looked up from his book and raised a brow at Mark, as though he wasn’t sure if he'd heard him correctly. Mark bit his lip when he felt his nerves start to get the better of him. 

“I-I’m not sure how long I plan to stay here,” Mark admitted in a low voice. “So I’d like to work for your hostel in return. Please, I’ll take any position you have available, I just need some shelter.”

Shelter. Mark wasn’t sure why he would pick that word. It made him sound like a street urchin that was desperate for someplace to call home. It was somewhat true though, he really didn’t have anywhere else to call home and he was desperate. 

“Ha! Looking for work, eh? What a stroke of luck!” Malcolm's booming voice began to ring in Mark’s ears. “Tell me lad, you know anything about scrubbing tables?” 

“Uh yeah, I-”

“Good!” Malcolm grabbed a set of keys from under the counter and tossed them over at Mark. 

“You're gonna be staying in B5, it’s on the third floor at the end of the hall. Don’t worry, you’d gotta be off your rocks to miss it.” 

“T-Thank you, sir!” Mark looked down at the keys in shock and then back at Malcolm. “I... I didn’t think I would be hired so soon.” 

Malcolm just chuckled. “Consider this your lucky day then, lad. Between you and me, my old busboy bailed out on me at the last minute yesterday, so I’m willing to take as much help as I can get.”

“Oh no, I’m sorry to hear that,” Mark said with sympathy in his voice.

“Don’t be!” Malcolm exclaimed. “Now I've got you for the time being. Just work hard, keep your head clear, and don’t go flirting with any of the guests.”

“Yes sir. 

“You’ll start work first thing tomorrow, no later than six, you hear?” Malcolm warned. “You're new here so I want you up nice and early so I can show you how things work here, got it?

“Yes sir, you won’t be disappointed.”

“That’s what I like to hear!” Malcolm jerked his head towards the stairs. “Now go and get your disheveled self upstairs before you pass out!” 

Picking up his luggage once more, Mark signed off with a mock salute and headed up the stairs until he reached the third floor. It wasn’t until Mark was settled in his room that he finally felt relived. The room was small, empty, and painted white with a twin sized bed tucked into the corner of the room facing the door. In the opposite corner was a wooden, scratched desk with nothing on it but a small, rusted lamp. In the wall between the bed and desk was a lone window that gave Mark a clear view of the cloud-cloaked town.

Closing the door behind him, Mark tossed his bag on the bed and looked out the window to get a better view of the area. He wasn’t on the highest floor, but he could see very clearly the pubs and shops that filled the streets and the people who walked along them. Beyond the town were thick trees and large fields of grass that ended due to the soft curve of the beach, with the waves of the ocean crashing silently against the sandy land. Mark wasn't too far from the beach, but it would still require quite a walk to reach it. 

For Mark, the town was everything he'd ever wanted and more. There was a time when Mark used to love being at home. Home had been everything to him: his family, his friends, his country, all of it worth fighting for. Now he couldn’t stand it any longer and he hated himself for it. He hated himself for not being able to relate to anyone anymore. He hated himself for not being strong, but what more could he do? After everything he'd been through, all the things he'd forced himself to do, and all the disillusionment he'd had to face, how could he possibly look anyone straight in the eye and act like the same fun-loving idiot that everyone back home remembered him to be?

He sighed bitterly, the thought of home doing nothing but leaving a horrible feeling in his stomach. His only option now was to not think about it, at least for the moment. He was alone and miles away from Cincinnati, in a place completely unlike his old home. Mark wasn’t sure what had made him choose Ireland as his final getaway spot. All he'd wanted was to move somewhere that was as far away from his old home as possible,  and with so many options to choose from, Ireland ended up being his pick. Of course, in some respect it had made the most sense why he would pick Ireland, because it was that one country which stayed under the radar from most people’s attention. Bands like the Beatles and the Rolling Stones gave the U.K. more recognition then Mark would have liked, Germany and the rest of western Europe were in a whole mess of political turmoil, and Mark would have rather flung himself off a rooftop then follow in his brother’s footsteps and escape to Canada. The Republic of Ireland was different though, it was quiet and remote enough to give Mark the very type of isolation that he so craved.

He was alone, at peace, and that’s all Mark needed.

Mark forced himself away from the window and turned his attention to the bag on his bed. He knew that he should unpack and take a quick nap to stave off the jet lag, but instead he dug through his clothes and pulled out a brown leather journal from the bottom of the bag. This was his coping mechanism. He'd found that writing about his problems was a better alternative than talking about them. For one, he wouldn’t have to burden people with things he didn’t expect them to understand, and for another, it was a good distraction to help keep his mind off things that he didn’t want to look back on. Taking a seat at the desk, Mark opened the journal and pressed the tip of the pen against the first blank page he spotted.

 _September 4th, 1971_

Mark paused and began to think; his writings usually ranged from long pages about his less than savory experiences to simple short paragraphs about his more normal days. It usually depended on how he felt, and at this particular moment he felt rather plain. He couldn’t bring himself to say that he felt happy; he was thankful and relieved to be somewhere new, but happy? ‘Happy’ was such a strong word. However, he didn’t feel like death, and that was much more important to him.

 _Arrived in_ _Ireland_ _in once piece. The cab driver told me something about a hostel on the way over here. I can’t live here forever though; once I get a secure job and save enough money I might get a small apartment. I’m not sure what that job would be yet but I’ll take whatever I can get. The town is old, but quiet. I’m still not sure if I’ll stay here permanently. If I work hard and raise enough money I could-_

There was a problem, the tip of the pen was starting to dry up. Mark groaned in annoyance and began scratching the tip against a clean spot of the paper, but no ink would come out of it. He tried scratching at it harder and harder until the head of the pen snapped in half. Mark cursed loudly as the black ink began to ooze all over his hand and journal. He quickly moved his journal away and cupped his good hand under the broken pen so that it didn’t leak any more ink onto the desk. Mark froze suddenly as he looked down at his hands, his vision starting to twist and morph until everything around him became unrecognizable. His hands were soaked in blood, in his grip was a large Bowie-knife, the sound of fire and helicopters starting to ring in his ears. Mark began to hear screaming, but it was a mystery to him as to where it was coming from. It wasn’t until his head collided with the floor that he realized the screams were coming from him.

Mark wasn’t sure how long he stayed curled up on the floor. Minutes? Hours? He didn't know, nor did he care. His body was shaking, his heart was pounding, and his face was covered with sweat. Mark was just thankful that no one was around to witness him in such a state, and he prayed to God that no one came in to check up on him. Slowly, but surely, he managed to calm his breathing down to a normal pace. He reached an arm out towards the bed and lifted himself back up on his feet. His body was still in shambles but at least he was able to stand up straight. As he steadied himself, Mark took a good look of his surroundings. He saw the same white walls, the same scratched up desk, and the same bed as before. On the corner of the floor beside the desk were the remains of the broken pen. He stared at the pieces a while longer, as though waiting for them to do something terrible, but nothing happened. They didn’t move, nor did they change, instead simply laying there on the floor in a small puddle of dried up ink. Mark was reluctant to look down at his fingers, but the anxiety was too much to bear. He slowly lifted his shaking hands up and stared at them closely. They were messy and stained with dried ink, but there wasn’t trace of blood to be found. It was just ink; not blood, not dirt, just ink. Regular, everyday, writing ink. 

Mark sighed and ran and hand through his hair. He hadn’t even gotten a chance to unpack yet and already his mind was playing tricks on him. He soon found the space within the room to be insufferable. He needed to get some fresh air and he was quickly reminded of the beach. Without skipping a beat, Mark washed up and hurried out of the hostel  without Malcolm noticing, which proved to be much easier than he'd thought, as he found the good owner was lost in conversation with one of the many travelers in the lobby.

Mark cursed under his breath when another gust of cold wind pushed against his face as he walked down the desolate beach. When he'd made the decision to take this walk, he hadn’t counted on the wind fighting him along the way. He should have known better. Still, he was grateful that the crashing waves weren’t triggering him like the ink had. He instead found the sounds to be oddly soothing, and the isolation certainly helped as well. The waves were rough and the sand coarse, but Mark found himself completely smitten with the area. The cloudy sky and thickening fog gave the beach an eerie, almost mysterious presence that was enough to give anyone chills, but Mark welcomed it all the way.

Mark’s walk was briefly interrupted when something in the distance caught his eye. It was hard for him to make heads or tails as to what it was due to the fog, but it seemed to resemble the figure of a human being laid out on the edge of the beach. Mark’s first thought was that it was the body of a poor sailor tragically laid out on the shore. Yet when he drew closer, he noticed the faint movement of an arm bringing a worn-down cigarette to dry lips, followed shortly by a faint cloud of smoke that blew off into the wind the second it escaped from the person’s mouth.

Mark was relieved at first, but confusion eventually took over as he walked closer to the odd stranger. Now no more than five feet away from Mark was a young man laying down on wet ground as though it were a bed. His clothes were soaked and caked with sand from where the water had reached him. His eyes were closed and his lips were blue from the cold. Mark watched as a small wave rushed along the surface of the beach, skimming along the frame of the young man. The water reached far enough to soak the back of his hair and neck, and yet the only reaction the stranger had was a small wince from the cold. He did not move, he did not cry out, he just continued to lay there with his eyes closed as the water receded back into the ocean. The only movement that the man made was the repeated lifting of his arm so he could take another drag of his cigarette.

“Excuse me.” Mark took a few steps closer. “Sir, are you okay?”

The man furrowed his brows and slowly opened his eyes. The shock of seeing Mark staring down at him made him gasp and spring to life. Sitting up, he quickly crawled a good distance away from Mark, not caring at all about the sudden wave that collided into his side, soaking him completely.

“W-what the fuck?!” The stranger gave Mark a glare as the wave began its descent back into the sea. “Who are you? Were you staring at me?! How long were you staring at me for?!”

Mark put his hands up and took a step back, not wanting to startle the man even further.

“Whoa, take it easy there! I’m not going to hurt you.” Mark spoke in the most calming voice that he could muster. “I was just walking past, I didn’t mean to startle you.” 

The other man rose to his feet and hugged himself, as if trying to squeeze any ounce of warmth he could muster out of his sea-drenched coat.  

“If you're just taking a walk, then go.” He spoke in a cold voice. “There’s nothing for you to see here.” 

“Are you sure about that?” Mark asked. “You're gonna freeze to death if you keep standing there.”

The stranger gave Mark a nasty glare. “I’m fine.” 

“No you're not.” Mark took off his coat and offered it to the stranger in an outstretched hand. “Here, slip into this. You need to put on something dry.”

“I said I’m fine!”

“You don’t look fine.” Mark tilted his head. “Look I’m just trying to be nice here.”

“I don’t need your damn charity,” the stranger muttered.

“You're right, you don’t.” Now it was Mark’s turn to get annoyed. “Just like how I don’t need to give you any. I could leave you alone and let you wallow here like a wet rat, but that’s just not the kind of guy I am.” Mark gave his wrist a small jerk, causing his coat to flutter. “So are you gonna take my coat or are you just gonna keep wasting my time?”

The stranger said nothing, he gave Mark another glare before looking down at the wet, murky sand. Letting out a long, defeated sigh he quickly stripped out of his black, wet coat and yanked Mark’s from his hand. Once he had himself all bundled up, he walked up the beach until he was a good distance away from the water’s touch and sat himself down on the dry sand.

“Aren’t you cold?” His voice was quiet now.

Mark just shrugged. “I’ll live.” 

The stranger said nothing when Mark sat down next to him, but he made no attempt to hide his displeasure. He tried to pay no attention to Mark, instead deciding to turn his gaze to the horizon of the sea, almost as if hoping that by doing so, the American would disappear completely. Mark however had no plans on leaving quite yet.

“So what were you doing?” Mark asked.

The stranger kept his gaze on the ocean as he spoke. “Having a cigarette.”

“I gotta admit, that’s an interesting way to smoke a cigarette.”

“What can I say?” He chuckled bitterly. “I love the ocean.” 

“It looked like you were trying to freeze to death.” 

The man didn't respond, he just continued to stare back at the sea. There was something about the way the stranger curled into himself ever so slightly that made Mark raise a brow. Even what he witnessed, it started to make more and more sense.

" _Were_ you trying to freeze to death?"

The stranger whipped his head around and Mark came face-to-face with a pair of shocked, angry blue eyes. "What kind of fucking stupid question is that?!"

"Hey, I'm just asking. There's no need to get all defensive about it." Mark ran a hand through his hair. "But you're right, it is a stupid question, because if that were the case, it didn't seem like you would have gone through with it anyway."

 Confusion quickly clouded his blue eyes. "What do you mean?"

"Well, if you really wanted to kill yourself, you would have used a method that was quicker." Mark explained. "A noose or a bullet to the head would have given you a much faster death, but to slowly freeze in the ocean waves is a different matter. Say it was your intention to end your life, but you still had second thoughts about it: if you ever wanted to change your mind, what's to stop you from getting up and leaving this beach altogether? That's how I know you couldn't have been serious about this to begin with."

The stranger looked absolutely stunned, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment and shame. He had no way of responding to this American so he just pouted and looked down at his lap.

"Look, I know it's none of my business and I'm sorry that you've been pushed to that breaking point," Mark said sympathetically. "but suicide isn't going to make things better for you."

"And I suppose you'd fucking know a lot about that wouldn't you?" There was a sneer in the stranger's voice, but it didn't phase Mark in the slightest.

"The thought has crossed my mind once or twice, yes." Mark wasn't sure why he was revealing this information to a man he'd just met, but it felt oddly good. "I only ever attempted it once, but my nerves got the better of me." 

There as an awkward moment of silence between the two men.

"I'm sorry to hear that." The stranger's voice was laced with sympathy. "You wanting to kill yourself I mean, not you getting too scared to do it."

"Heh, I get what you mean, thanks. But don't worry, that's all in the past now anyway." Mark wiped his hands together, brushing off a few grains of sand. "The name's Mark, by the way, and you are?"

"...Sean." There was a pause. "But most people call me Jack, so just call me that." 

"Jack it is then." Mark began to hug himself, realizing now just how cold he really was, but he did his best not to let the chill get to him. "So I'm guessing you're from town, right?"

"Not originally," Jack answered. " And I know for a fact that you're not neither."

"Was it too obvious?"

"Very." Jack rolled his blue eyes and let out a weak chuckle.

Mark smiled back. It wasn't forced like the one back at the hostel, but instead an actual grin. This revelation would have shocked Mark to his very core, if it weren't for the small droplets of water that began to make their speedy descent to the ground below to knock the thought from his mind.

"What are you doing?" Jack gave Mark a suspicious look when he got up to grab hold of his wet coat from the sand.

"Just getting your stuff off the ground." Mark tossed the soaked piece of clothing over his shoulder. "I think we should start heading back, don't you?"

"Oh what? Can't handle a little drizzle?" Jack teased.

"No, but it is getting dark and I gotta be up at six tomorrow." Mark tilted his head and smirked. "I understand if you want me out of your hair, but that means we're gonna have to trade coats and there's no way in hell I'm letting you freeze to death."

Jack thought about this for a moment. He liked his solitude very much and found it hard to trust people nowadays. The fact that Mark was an American certainly didn't help the situation either. Still, he was wearing the man's coat and it would be rather cruel to let Mark freeze is ass off on the beach just because he was being a brat.

"Alright, I'll go with you." Jack lifted himself up to his feet. "But once we get back to town we exchange coats and we go our separate ways, got it?"

"Deal."

Both men began their walk back to town in quiet understanding. They didn't face each other nor did they exchange any more words. Walking side by side on the beach in silence was more than enough interaction then any of them could ask for, and the roaring sound of the waves was all that was needed to make sure things didn't grow too quiet between them. 


	2. Manic Depression

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Music sweet music,
> 
> I wish I could caress, caress, caress.
> 
> Manic depression's a frustrating mess.
> 
> \- Jimi Hendrix

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UPDATE! This chapter has finally been beta'd, and she was nice enough to give me some advise to make things flow better, I love my friend so much. 
> 
> First off, thank you all so much for the comments! Seriously guys it means so much to me, I'm so happy you like it so far! I'm gonna try to update this story every Sunday or Saturday if I can. 
> 
> This is sort of a slow chapter, but that's okay. Enjoy!

  Mark was up and present in the lobby the very next morning at six o’clock on the dot. Malcolm, who had already woken up half an hour earlier, was impressed by this and wasted no time in instructing the American on what tasks were to be done and where everything was to be handled. The lobby was fairly empty, with almost all of the travelers sleeping soundly in the rooms above due to a long night of drinking and good conversation. This proved to be a blessing though, as it gave Malcolm free range to show Mark around without interrupting anyone's morning. Mark was quick to understand the ins and outs of the lobby, but he was then introduced to the small bar area located in a room just behind the lobby.

“Alright, all the cleanin’ supplies you’ll need are gonna be right here!” Malcolm lead Mark to a small closet filled to the brim with buckets, mops, brooms, and spray bottles. “When you're done just bring them back here. You got that?”

Mark nodded. “Yes sir.”

“Please, call me Malcolm.” He gave Mark his usual smile. “When you see an empty table that’s been recently vacated, wipe it down, and if you see any dirty glasses just send them around to the kitchen. Simple enough, right?” He reached into the closet and handed Mark a cleaning bottle and a rag. “I’m gonna have you workin’ from seven to noon for now. It’s more quiet during those hours, though if you prove yourself to be a fast learner I’ll have you workin’ the night shift.”

“Sounds good to me, si- I mean, Malcolm.” Mark knew that was going to take some getting used to.

“Glad to hear it!”

   The owner lead Mark back to the lobby and instructed him to start wiping down the tables in there first before moving onto those in the bar. With rag in hand and a bucket of soapy water at his feet, Mark wasted no time in cleaning all the small tables of the spills and messes left behind from the night before. Malcolm, meanwhile, once again took his seat behind the counter and went back to reading his morning paper.

“So what’s your story, lad?” Malcolm asked casually after a few moments of silence, his gaze still fixed on the paper. “You're American, aren’t you? What made you decide to make such a big trip over to Ireland?”

“Oh well, you know.” Mark chose his words carefully. “I just needed some peace and quiet. Ireland seemed like the perfect place.”

   Malcolm laughed. “Oh, I can imagine. Is that war still going on over there? They don’t talk about it as much as they used to. I mean, last year and the year before?” He whistled. “Forget it! You couldn’t hear the end of that kind of talk, and that’s just here in Ireland! I can’t even imagine what it’s like back where you're from.”

   Mark inhaled sharply; he could feel the agitation slowly starting to prickle in his brain. He didn’t like hearing about the war, and he sure as hell didn’t want to talk about it either. The soldier in him wanted to turn and tell the older man right then and there: 'No, you can’t imagine what it’s like! No one can imagine what it was like, so stop talking about it like you even have half a clue as to what’s going on!' However, the good boy in him always managed to dismiss these feelings of hostility.

“I heard that they're starting to pull people out of Vietnam, now.” Mark reached for a dry rag to wipe down the water from the table. “It should be over soon, I think.”

“Well that’s good to hear, at least!” Mark could hear the ruffling sound of the paper as Malcolm turned to a new page. “I could see why you would wanna get away from all that shite. I don’t blame you for wantin’ a break.”

Mark said nothing, he only grabbed his cleaning supplies and moved to the next table. It was sticky and littered with glasses. He tried his best to ignore Malcolm, it was the only thing he could do to keep himself in check. Moments past and Mark remained silent, though Malcolm couldn't help but find this to be a bit peculiar.

“You're not much of a talker, are you lad?”

   This question made Mark oddly uncomfortable. There once was a time where he was considered a chatter box by most of his peers. Even during the early days with his platoon, he would always be showered with compliments like: ‘Mark, you're such a happy idiot!’ or ‘You son of a bitch, you always know how to make me laugh! Don’t ever change!’. Yet he had changed, he’d changed so much, and the worst part of it all was that he had no idea how to change back, or if he even could.

“Sorry I… it’s just still early for me,” Mark lied. “I’ll get a second wind as the day goes on, I promise.”

Malcolm laughed. “What are you saying sorry for? I’m just busting your balls a bit. Besides, you're new here! You just need is some time to open up, that’s all.”

“Heh, if you say so.”

“So where did you run off to in such a hurry yesterday?”

“H-how did you-”

“I saw you runnin’ off in the lobby,” Malcolm gave off a satisfied. “probably thought I didn’t recognize you, but I did. I know everything that happens in this hostel!” He paused. “Except for what goes on in the rooms of the guests, that’s way beyond my business.”

Mark gave a weak chuckle. “Well, I just wanted to get some fresh air, so I’d thought I check out the beach.”

“Ah good for you!” He reached a hand out and crushed a small fly that landed on the counter. The sudden bang caused the younger man to flinch. “At least you're exploring a bit, that’s always nice to hear! Though I’d wait till summer till you start tryin’ out the beaches if I were you. You’ll catch a death of cold if you stay there for too long.”

   Mark wanted to be mad from the previous burst of sound, hell he was lucky that he didn’t go mental like he did yesterday over the hand clap. The anger quickly subsided though, once the memories of yesterday started to resurface in his brain. His first thoughts were of Jack how he laid there by the edge of the beach. Mark didn’t want to think about it and mind his own business, but curiosity got the better of him, much to his disdain.

“Malcolm,” Mark spoke quietly. “Do you know anyone by the name of Sean?”

Malcolm raised a brow at Mark; it was his turn to be surprised. “Now who told you about Jack?”

“I, uh, sort of ran into him on the beach.” Mark admitted. “We sort of talked for a bit and then we walked back to town.”

“Ha, really now?” Malcolm appeared very amused by this. “Real ball of sunshine that one is, let me tell you! How was he when you saw him?”

“He seemed good.” Mark was lying again, but he felt it was necessary.

“Pff, I had a feeling,” The hostel owner ran a hand through his thinning hair. “The kid’s always lurking around by himself doing God knows what. I’m surprised you were able to bump into him on a whim like that.”

“So he’s a bit of a loner?”

“That’s putting it mildly, but yeah!” Malcolm nodded. “Well at least as far as I know. I can only imagine who he talks to now.”

“I see.” Mark wasn’t sure why he was so curious about this Jack fellow. The young Irishman was really none of his business-he knew that if it had been anyone else he would have brushed his thoughts off with a wave of indifference-and yet, almost on impulse, Mark found himself asking another question. “So who is he exactly?”

“Oh he’s just a young lad who works at the front desk at the inn a few blocks down from here,” Malcolm explained. “He originally lived up by Athlone, before comin’ down here a few years ago. He actually stayed here for a bit when he first arrived. Boy! Was he a firecracker, always smilin’ and talkin’ up a storm."

“Are you serious?” Mark gave Malcolm a look of disbelief. “I mean he was… nice when I met him, but I’d never consider him to be a ‘firecracker’ .

“Oh yeah! He used to be quite the bundle of energy that one.” Malcolm appeared to grow happier as he reflected upon some fonder memories. “I know it’s hard to believe but I only speak the truth.”

Mark grew more curious, much to his displeasure. “So, what happened?”

   Malcolm’s cheery expression slowly began to fade. “I… don’t know, to be honest.” He folded his arms as he spoke. “He stayed here for a week, said goodbye, and hopped on a plane over to America. I can’t remember how long he stayed there for, but he was never the same after he got back.” There was a pause. “He never told me what happened over there, or anyone for that matter. He just came back, got a job at the inn, and kept a good distance from everyone.”

Mark felt unease growing in the pit of his stomach. All of this sounded vaguely familiar to his own situation after he'd first arrived home from the war. The good boy in him wanted to sympathies with the Irishman, but the soldier in him wanted to scoff.

“Why did he even want to go to America in the first place?” Mark thought to himself out loud.

“Well, why not?” Malcolm chimed. “Who wouldn’t want to go somewhere new and excitin’, am I right? Though if you're really wonderin’, why don’t you go ask him yourself?”

“Hm.” Mark didn’t know what else to say. What could he say? He forced himself to stop thinking about it and went back to cleaning up the tables. Once he was done, he left the lobby and went straight to the bar without saying another word. Malcolm just shrugged and returned to his paper where an interesting article about the conflict up North was being discussed.

   By the time noon came around, Mark found himself completely exhausted. He finished cleaning up the last table and made his way upstairs, crashing onto his bed without a second thought. Outside his room he could hear the sound of footsteps, and doors opening and closing as the guests made their trips around the corridor. His thoughts started to turn toward Jack again, and God did it make him sick, but he had no control over it. He wondered what had become of Jack after they went their separate ways. For a moment, he began to worry that Jack might have tried to take his own life once more, but Mark quickly found that thought to be unlikely. The town was small, after all, and if one of their own were to go missing or commit suicide, surely everyone would have heard about it by now, especially Malcolm.

   The soft sounds of voices and laughter from outside his room slowly began to fade away once Mark drifted closer and closer to sleep. He shouldn’t be worrying about Jack, he had no reason too. Mark was able to put the other man in the back of his mind, at least for now, before his thoughts became an incoherent jumble of nonsensical images and sounds as he drew nearer to the sweet embrace of unconsciousness.

_“ANGER! He smiles towering in shiny metallic purple armor…”_

   Mark yelped and quickly sat up at the sudden loud burst of music. He stayed still in bed for a moment, thinking that another attack was to about to arise within him. Fortunately, Mark was able to keep his breathing under control, though the feeling of shock still rattled his body like a leaf on the wind. Once he'd settled his nerves enough to stand without his knees knocking in the process, Mark grit his teeth and marched out of his room to find the source of the racket that had nearly thrown him into another panic attack. Along the small corridor were room doors which were both open and closed. No one seemed to mind the music that filled the air, in fact there were some who were even dancing and singing along to the tune. This, of course, only fueled Mark’s rage even further.

   The music was coming from the room right next door to Mark’s. Its door was open wide and bare, allowing the music to flow through the entire corridor with ease. Inside the room was a young man who looked to be no older than Mark, with blond hair, blue eyes, and a short beard. He sat on his bed with a wooden guitar in hand, singing and playing along to the blast of music which flowed from a posh record player on the desk. 'Another trust-fund brat', Mark thought bitterly to himself. The notes from the man’s guitar mixed with the tune and beat coming from the record player in a melody that complimented the song, and when the blonde man sang along, it was in perfect harmony.

“My red is so confident that he flashes trophies of war and ribbons of euphoria…”

Mark knocked loudly on the door frame, hoping to get the man’s attention. “Excuse me?!”

  When the man finally took notice of Mark, he stared at him for a second with a confused look on his face. When it became clear that Mark showed no signs of engaging in chit-chat, he put his guitar down and reached over to the desk to lower the volume of the music.

“Oh, hey man! Didn’t see you there.” His voice bore an accent that Mark couldn’t identify. “You need something?”

“I need you to turn that garbage down!” He ranted. “Who the hell just blast music out of the blue like that?! Don’t you know that there are other people here besides yourself!? Fucking self-entitled brats and your crap music!” The soldier in him was in full swing. “Either turn it down or I’m taking that record player and smashing it against the fucking wall!”

Mark didn’t mean to sound so harsh and he quickly began to regret it. The floor felt quieter and he could sense the dirty looks and whispers from the travelers that occupied the hall, almost as if Mark had said something truly despicable. The blonde of course looked thoroughly offended and rightfully so.

“Excuse you?!” Outrage filled his voice as he spoke. “First of all, it’s not garbage! It’s fucking Hendrix. Second of all, what the fuck?! If you want me to lower the volume, you could at least not be a dick about it!”

Mark could feel himself grow smaller with every word the traveler spoke. A feeling of self-loathing started to bubble in the pit of his stomach and he felt like a child who had just been tongue-lashed by his parents. What the hell was wrong with him? Part of him wanted to stay angry, but he knew if he did it would just make things worse.

“L-look, I’m sorry.” Mark spoke quietly. “You're right, I’m a fucking douche. I didn’t mean to offend you or come off as an asshole. I was napping and I got startled, I know it’s not an excuse. I’m sorry.”

  The blonde man’s expression began to soften from Mark’s apology. “Hey, that’s cool man, I didn’t know you were sleeping.” He smiled softly. “Look, I’ll keep the volume low if that’s what you want.”

  Mark ran a hand through his hair. Even if he was forgiven for his outburst, he still felt like shit. The odd, suspicious looks from the travelers didn’t waver and that certainly didn’t help him to feel better. Actually, it took nearly every ounce of willpower Mark had not to glare back at them.  

“Thanks. Again, I’m sorry I snapped.” It was all Mark could say before turning around and locking himself back into his room. Although Mark was safe inside, the muffled voices of the guests outside could still be heard through the thin walls of the room.

“What on earth was all zat about?” asked a young man with thick, French accent. “I’ve never zeen anyone react like zat before over being woken up.”

“He probably has anger issues or somethin',” responded a young woman who’s voiced dripped with Brooklyn.

“Who is he anyway?” asked the Frenchmen.

“I saw him cleanin’ up the tables earlier this mornin’,” said a voice with a heavy Southern drawl. “I think he works here. He didn’t seem like a bad fellow.”

“If he works here,” chimed in a Russian female voice. “then shouldn’t we tell Malcolm about it?”

Fuck... fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

  Just the idea of getting reported to Malcolm made Mark want to vomit. He had only been at the hostel for a day and already he was in trouble. Mark didn’t mean to lash out or hurt anyone, he was just frustrated. Now he found himself and his job at the mercy of a group of young, wayward travelers.

“Guys, it’s fine!” Mark could easily recognize the voice of blonde man. “He said he was sorry, it’s not worth putting his job on the line. Besides, he could have been stressing out about something that we have no idea about. Let’s just move on and put this behind us, yes?"

  Laughter was heard immediately after and the music resumed playing, this time at a much lower volume. Peace was restored to the 3rd floor once more and Mark sighed heavily in relief. He dragged his body into the small bathroom to get a drink of water from the sink and then plopped himself back onto the bed. Mark wasn’t sure if he would be able to bring himself to nap again, but he was going to make the effort. After all that unnecessary drama, Mark knew it would be very foolish of him to try to leave this room for a while, so he decided to rest for a bit, at least until the guests who were less than pleased with him started to forget the incident.

 A good hour had passed when Mark woke up from his nap. He felt it was probably safe enough for him to leave and get something to eat by now. As he stepped out of his room, it dawned on him that he hadn’t eaten a lick of food since yesterday, and his empty stomach growled and ached with nausea as it begged for nourishment. The corridor was thankfully empty when he left and that Felix fellow was nowhere to be found. Mark knew that he had to thank him next time he saw him, but that would have to wait.

  There was an eatery just across from the hostel where Mark was able to find an empty table. The cafe was small but cozy with it’s brick fireplace and wooden bar filled with locals and visitors alike. If Mark had a choice, he would have picked something a bit more quiet, but beggars weren’t choosers. In fact, he was surprised that he was even able to get a table at all, but his luck seemed to have turned around enough to allow the hostess to seat him at the end corner of the bar. It was not the greatest spot in the word; in fact, it was the seat closest to the kitchen door, and the heavy swings of the wood from the waiters and waitresses going back and forth with trays of food and drink would be impossible to ignore, but this didn’t bother Mark in the slightest.

   However, the menu was a different story entirely, as on it were a list of local dishes that Mark had never heard of in his twenty-three years of existence such as Driskeen, Coddle, and Colcannon. His good luck returning once more, Mark was able to locate a couple of dishes that he actually could identify, such as the lamb stew and cottage pie. He considered which would be better, the stew or the pie. He was sure both would be tasty, but the pie sounded more filling and that was something that Mark really wanted. His mind finally made up, there was nothing more for him to do now but wait for a waitress to arrive. As he did, his mind began to drift until he was so lost was he in his thoughts that he didn’t even notice the seat directly next to his being emptied. Nor did he notice the customer who walked over to occupy said seat.

“You?”

  
Mark snapped back to reality when he heard that familiar Irish voice. He turned his gaze to the seat next to him where he was greeted by the shocked, blue eyes of Jack.


	3. People Are Strange

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> People are strange when you're a stranger,
> 
> Faces look ugly when you're alone.
> 
> \- The Doors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally it's done! Sorry for the wait guys, hope you enjoy!

 

 An awkward silence passed between the two men as they stared each other down. Mark had spent a good amount of time trying to drive the Irishman from his head and yet here he was in the flesh, sitting right next to him. While annoyed by this whim of fate, Mark was honestly relieved to see that Jack appeared to be in a better state than he had been yesterday. His brown hair was dry and fluffy, and his lips were no longer blue from the cold. On Jack's end, he felt a bit more apprehensive. Out of all the people he could have crossed paths with today, why did it have to be the American foreigner that stopped him from a half-assed attempt at suicide? He felt embarrassment, shame, and guilt all rolled together from just looking at Mark and it was enough to make his stomach turn, but he didn’t dare bring himself to waver. Eventually they mutually broke their gaze from the other and tried to turn their attention to anything else they could find in front of them.

Mark was the first to speak. “I didn’t think I’d see you again.”

“Neither did I to be honest.” Jack reached into his pocket to take out a fresh box of cigarettes and a match. “Want one?”

Mark shook his head. “Uh, no thank you. I don’t smoke.”

Jack just nodded and went back to lighting a cigarette for himself. Mark could hear the faint sound of breathing when Jack exhaled the first ring of smoke from his lungs. Honestly he didn’t mind the smell of tobacco smoke; in fact, part of him rather enjoyed it. It reminded him of his youth, back when  
his father was still alive. He remembered the box of cigars that his father used to keep in his study and how he would occasionally smoke from those thick rolls of tobacco during parties, or those long, winter nights. Mark had considered taking up smoking for a while now and perhaps he would give it a try sometime in the future, though for now he wasn’t sure.

“S-so... heh!” Mark awkwardly spoke again. “ How are you?”

“I’m good,” Jack answered. “And you?”

“I’m good too.”

Another silence passed between them.

Mark kept his gaze on the menu while Jack flicked a few ashes of burned tobacco into the ashtray. “I never thanked you for the dry coat yesterday.” Jack stared down at his hands as he spoke. “So thank you for that.”

Mark took a sip of his water and shrugged. “It’s okay, you don’t have to thank me.”

“Well it’s kinda too late for that, don’t you think?” Jack retorted. “Since I already just thanked you a second ago.”

Mark chuckled. “Heh. When you put it that way, I guess I can’t argue with that now, can I?”

Jack gave a faint smile before taking another drag of his cigarette. This time both men made an effort to maintain eye contact with each other. This made things a bit more bearable for them, but there was still a feeling of unease that lingered in the back of Jack’s mind.

“L-look, about yesterday-”

“We don’t have to talk about yesterday if you don’t want to,” Mark quickly said, as if knowing what Jack was about to ask. “I mean... unless you do want to. I’m not going to force you to talk about a situation you're not happy about. You don't owe me any explanation.”

Jack bit his lip and thought for a moment. If he talked about it, then it would lead to a whole mess of things that he didn’t want to go into. If he didn’t talk about it, then it would make things feel even more insufferable between them. He knew it was a no-win situation, but in the end he couldn’t bring himself to talk about yesterday. If the worst case scenario of things growing too uncomfortable between them arose, he could just get up and leave, simple as that. This American didn’t owe him anything and vice versa.

“I guess I’d rather not,” he said finally. “I’m fine now, I just want to move on and forget about it. Is that okay with you?”

“Don’t worry, it’s more than okay with me.” This was a lie, but Mark didn’t want to force the subject onto the Irishman. If Jack wanted to talk then he would do it on his own terms when he felt comfortable.

“Thank you,” Jack said with relief, as if he was almost grateful not to be questioned. “So... uh, is it your first time eating here?”

“Yeah, it is.” Mark looked back to examine his menu. “I don’t suppose you have any recommendations, do you? Right now I’m thinking of getting the cottage pie, but the stew looks good too.”

“Hmm, well it really depends how hungry you are.”

“I haven’t eaten a thing since yesterday.”

“Get the cottage pie, then.” Jack took another puff of smoke. “That should be able to fill you up 'til breakfast.”

“Good to know, thanks.” Mark folded his menu and moved it away from him. Things grew quiet again until the waiters came by to place their orders. Jack ordered ‘the usual’ whereas Mark went with Jack’s suggestion of the cottage pie. Soon they were alone once more and Mark could feel the tension  
start to drift away ever so slightly.

“You must be a regular here, I’m guessing.”

“It’s my favorite place to eat when I’m too lazy to cook for myself,” Jack admitted. “So yeah, I guess you could say that I do come here often.”

“Heh, well now I know where I can find you.” Mark grew quiet and frowned; why would he say such a thing? “I mean... you know, in case you wanna meet up again. Or not. You’d probably want to be by yourself and I get that.”

Jack smirked. “I do enjoy my lonesome, but that doesn’t mean I don’t like some company from time to time. I just like to keep to myself nowadays. You understand, don’t you?”

Mark nodded in agreement. “So you're a very private guy, I take it.”

Jack giggled. “That’s one way of putting it. I can’t say it’s made me as popular as I used to be though.”

“That’s okay, you shouldn’t have to force yourself to socialize if you don’t want to.”

“Thanks, I’m glad you agree!” Jack smiled at him. It was clear that he was getting more comfortable as time passed by. “So, where are you staying? Obviously not at the place I work at, that’s for sure. I would have seen you check in.”

“At the Sleepy Moores,” Mark answered. “It’s not too far from here.”

“Sleepy Moores?” Jack looked thoroughly surprised by this. “Good God, I haven’t been there in years! How’s Malcolm treatin’ you?”

Mark shrugged. “Okay, for the most part.”

“Oh good, though it doesn't surprise me.” Jack rammed the end of the burnt cigarette against the glass of the ashtray. “He’s a good guy; granted he can just run his mouth for hours, but he’s still a good person either way.”

Mark laughed. “Oh tell me about it! Heh, but I honestly shouldn’t complain.” Before he could say anything else, the waiter returned and placed a well sized casserole dish on Mark’s place mat, Jack’s meal following moments after. The cottage pie was an impressive one, a six inch deep dish plate filled with thick globs of baked mashed potatoes that covered a rich layer of ground beef and vegetables. Jack's dish was a bit more simple, but hearty nevertheless: a bowl full of large, thick chunks of meat, potatoes, and carrots served in a thin brown broth sprinkled with fresh parsley.

Things grew quiet between them once more when hunger took over their senses, Mark especially. He wasted no time in shoveling as much of the casserole as he could into his mouth to satisfy his barren stomach and soon he didn’t feel as sick as he had before. Jack didn't fare much better with his manners, though he wasn’t nearly as hungry as Mark had been, so he was a slight bit more controlled when it came to his food.

“How long are you stayin’ for?” Jack asked after he finished sipping a spoonful of broth.

“I.. don't know actually. Hopefully forever.” Mark scooped another large piece of beef and mashed potatoes in his mouth and swallowed. “I’m only staying at Malcolm’s temporarily until I can find a real place to rent.”

Jack smirked. “Heh, so you just hopped onto the first plane you spotted and flew all the way out here by your lonesome, huh?”

“More or less, yep!”

“Well, all the power to you!” Jack chuckled before popping a chunk of lamb into his mouth. “Though, why would you wanna pick Ireland in the first place? I mean it’s great that you did, but out of all the places you could have picked from, why here?”

Mark shrugged. “It seemed quiet enough and I like peace and quiet.”

Jack scoffed. “Heh, if you count that mess up North peace and quiet that is, but don’t worry! You should be alright down here for the most part.”

“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind,” Mark said with a smirk. “What about you, Jack? Were you originally from this town or did you descend from another part of Ireland?” Mark knew the answer to this from Malcolm, but that didn’t matter. He wanted to hear it from Jack this time.

“I came from Athlone,” Jack wasn’t the type to open up to people, at least not as much as he used too. Yet he didn’t see the harm in giving basic answers about his life so long as they weren’t too detailed. “It’s up north. Not ‘NORTH’ north, mind you, but just a bit more northern than here.”

“What made you decide to settle here?”

“Same reason you did,” Jack looked down at his nearly empty bowl. “It’s quiet.”

Silence fell once again. This time it remained until their meals were finished and their dishes taken away. Neither man bothered to look at the other, but this didn’t stop Mark from attempting to break the silence once more.

“Do you have to go back to work after this?”

“Not today, no,” Jack answered. “How about you?”

“No, Malcolm only has me working during the mornings.” He shrugged “I think he wants me to get familiar with the area or something.”

Jack gave a weak smile. “Yeah that sounds like Malcolm alright.”

“You know him better than I do,” Mark said, chuckling as an idea struck him. “I don’t suppose you’d wanna give me a tour around here, would you?”

“Sure.”

Mark blinked and gave the Irishman a surprised look. When he'd made the suggestion, he'd meant it jokingly; well half-jokingly, since honestly he liked the idea of exploring around town with a companion. Anything was better then going back to the hostel and wallowing up in his room in boredom. However, he'd never for the life of him expected Jack to agree to participating in such an activity with him.

“You’d really wanna do that with me?”

“Yeah, I would. It’s not like we have anything better to do.” Jack turned to give him a look. “Why?”

“Oh nothing! I’d love to get a better look at the town. I just…” He shrugged. “I just didn’t think you’d say yes.”

Jack sized him up for a moment. “Normally I wouldn’t, but you seem like an okay guy, Mark, so I don’t see the harm in it. Besides, it could give us both somethin’ to do.”

“Alright, then consider it a plan.”

After both men paid their checks and left the restaurant, Jack wasted no time in introducing Mark to the heart of the town. Mark hadn't really gotten the chance to get a good look at the town’s square let alone appreciate it before. The square itself made the whole town seem bigger than Mark had originally thought and was not without its usual shops, pubs, and restaurants, as well as large flocks of people who naturally gathered around it. At its center was a large fountain made of stone and marble where a few of the local street artists and musicians gathered as well to show off their talents to the visiting tourists and travelers for a quick sum of money. Of course, Jack was smart enough to keep Mark away from such tourist traps.

“So, if you're lookin for anythin' to do around here, this is where you would most likely go,” Jack explained as they walked through the square. ‘It’s where the bulk of everythin’ is. I’m sure it’s not much compared to where you're from, but it’s home.”

“I think it’s better than where I’m from, if I’m to be honest,” Mark said rather vaguely. “Like I said, this place is great. I couldn’t ask for a better place to live.”

Jack only chuckled. “Heh whatever you say, Mark.” He slipped his hands into his coat pocket as they walked along the square. ‘You never did tell me what part of America you were from.”

“I didn’t? Oh no, where are my manners?”

Mark said in mock-surprise. “I’m from Cincinnati, Ohio. It’s kinda in the northeastern part of America but at the same time it’s not. If I had a map I’d show you.”

Jack giggled. “That’s alright, I have a globe in my apartment so I’ll try to hunt it out when I get home. Heh, I forget how big America is sometimes.”

“And I sometimes forget just how small these countries in Europe are.” Mark's memory of Malcolm's earlier comments were triggered by this conversation and curiosity quickly overruled his better judgement. “So, uh, I remember Malcolm telling me that you stayed in the States for a bit?”

Jack grew quiet from the question and quickly felt frustrated. _‘Damn that Malcolm!_ ' he thought bitterly to himself. _‘Damn him and his fuckin’ gossipin’ bullshit!’_

Mark could easily tell that he should have kept the question to himself, not just because of the awkward silence that fell over them, but also from the way Jack scrambled to grab hold of the cigarette box from his coat pocket.

“Hey wait, I’m sorry!” he quickly said before Jack was able to light the cigarette. “I didn’t mean anything by it, I was just curious. I won’t bring it up again if you that's what you want! I promise!”

“N-no, it’s not you. It’s just…” He sighed and put his cigarette away. “I just don’t like talkin’ about it. A lot of shit happened there that I’m not too proud of and I just want to move on from it. I know that’s probably not the answer you were lookin’ for, but it’s the truth.”

“H-hey that’s okay Jack. Like I said before, you don’t have to explain anything to me.” It took a good amount of willpower for Mark to keep himself from touching Jack’s shoulder in an effort to comfort him. “If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s completely acceptable.”

Jack felt relieved once more and gave him a faint smile.

“Thanks Mark, that’s really grand of you.” He turned his attention to a small pub that bore an image of a black rabbit within a pale blue disk on its sign, hoping to lead the conversation in a more cheerful direction. “Over there’s the Moon Rabbit. It’s one of my favorite pubs, mainly ‘cause the owner is friendlier than most, so I highly recommend it if you ever want to get shit-faced.”

“Good to know. I’ll keep that in mind," Mark answered in a more tense tone than he'd meant to.

Truthfully, Mark wouldn’t dare touch another lick of alcohol ever again, especially not after the incident with his friends Bob and Wade that one summer night not so long ago. Mark had just returned from the war and they'd decided to celebrate his return with a small get together. Mark didn't remember what had sparked the fight or how much they'd all had to drink back then; the only thing he did remember from that night was the look of pain and sheer horror in Wade’s eyes as Mark attempted to choke the very life out of his best friend in a drunken rage.

He'd never forgiven himself for what happened that night.

When Jack turned to him with a slightly confused expression, Mark quickly cast his gaze around the area, looking for anything he could use to change the topic of discussion. “Is that a sweet shop over there?” Mark finally asked as he pointed to a small, pink colored shop with cakes and pastries displayed at it’s window.

“Hm? Oh yeah! How could I have missed it!” Jack said with a smile. “Heh, I didn’t know you had a sweet tooth.”

“Well, doesn’t everyone?” Mark replied, relieved to see his plan had worked. He couldn't dwell on the past. He was here to make a new start, as he constantly reminded himself.

Jack laughed at this. “Good point there, Mark. I mean God knows I do, that’s for sure!” Jack didn’t bother to face Mark again, but that didn’t stop him from talking as they continued on walking. “I’m such a freak when it comes to cakes and cookies, if you can imagine it. When I was really little and it was someone’s birthday, I’d always try to stick my finger into the frosting for a taste. Ma would always yell at me, but Dad would just laugh.” He giggled at the small memory before looking down, feeling a bit embarrassed. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what made me think of that. I must be boring you with my dull childhood stories.”

“What? How could you say that? I don’t think you're boring at all,” Mark said reassuringly as they walked. “I think it’s a rather nice story. I used to do that when I was little too, until I was six and my mom decided to make a red velvet cake for my grandma’s birthday. I ended up breaking out in hives that night; turns out I was allergic to cream cheese frosting. Who would have thought, right?”

Jack laughed at this. “Awww, you poor thing! Sorry to hear about that, but no worries. Whatever doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, so I’m told.”

Jack couldn’t help but feel a bit happy; well happy was perhaps too strong a word to use, but whatever he felt it certainly made him feel good. Mark was nice, he wasn’t pressuring him to talk or bothering him to spend more time together than he was comfortable with, which Jack really appreciated. Being able to shoot the breeze and tell stories about his life made him feel almost normal again. The free-spirit in Jack was very thankful that he'd decided to take a chance and spend some time with this fascinating foreigner. However, as pleasant as he felt, there was still a tiny sense of unease lingering in the back of Jack's mind. Mark was pleasant and he respected his boundaries, but Jack had only known him for about a day. What if this American was trying to use him or hurt him, just like the others had done? How did he know if he could really trust Mark? What if it all ended in disaster and Jack felt like hurting himself again?

Jack shook his head and tried not to let those menacing thoughts invade his mind. That was something he would have to ponder more deeply once he was alone. If he kept at it now, he would only make himself sick and that wouldn't be good for anyone.

“So, I was thinking about something.” Mark spoke softly, having been lost in his own thoughts for a moment as well. “I know I said earlier that I didn’t smoke, but I've actually always wanted to give it a shot.”

“Heh, well it’s never too late to try.”

With a smile Jack handed Mark a fresh cigarette from his pocket and generously lit it for him. Then they continued their peaceful walk through town, though their stroll gathered a bit of attention due to the loud coughs coming from Mark as he took his first puffs. Neither seemed to mind the odd looks they received though; together they were both at peace.


	4. The Coffee Song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We sat here together just to pass time,
> 
> You said how the coffee tasted so fine.
> 
> -Cream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's here! It's finally here! I hope you guys weren't waiting for too long, anywho I hope you enjoy, and thanks for reading! <3 (Double thanks for the lovely comments and kudos! God you guys are the best!) 
> 
> If you'd like to find me on tumblr, let me know and I can message you my link, if not then that's fine too.

  _It was a hot day on the shores of South Vietnam and Mark was busy loading up his rifle. His unit had received word of enemy soldiers hiding within a local farmer’s village not too far from the base, so now it was time for an investigation. The mission was simple: head to the village and take out the enemy. It was Mark’s first mission though, and while he was already a trained marine, he couldn’t help but feel nervous. This was most likely a normal reaction for many soldiers to have, but Mark knew he had to get over it soon before they started to head out._

_Just as he was putting his boots on, Mark heard a familiar tune echoing throughout the base. Looking up he could see his friend Arin, who had been on tour much longer than he had, singing along to an old record player that his parents had shipped to him when he was just a week away from home. The song playing was a Rolling Stone song called Susie Q, a tune that Arin was quite fond of since the titular character shared the name of his high school sweetheart._

_“Once I get home, I’m gonna marry that woman!” Arin would announce proudly to whomever was listening. “I don’t care if I come home with one arm or one leg or no limbs at all! She will be my bride, heed my words, Mark!”_

_Something was happening all of a sudden, and everything was twisting and changing. Mark was no longer at the base, he was in the middle of the jungle. There was screaming, gunfire, and chaos all around him, but none of that reached Mark once he saw Arin lying on the dirt ground with a bleeding, gaping hole where his left eye had once been._

 

  Mark woke up with a start as the shock of the dream propelled him back into consciousness. Breathing hard he sat up against the headboard of the bed and looked around at  his surroundings as if to reassure himself that what he'd seen had indeed been all just a dream. To his relief, Mark’s room was exactly the same as it had been before he'd gone to bed. His journal laid open and bare on the desk beside him, his clothes from yesterday laid scattered on the floor in a messy heap from when he'd undressed for bed, and the broken pen from two days ago remained in the very same spot, unmoved and untouched since the day Mark had thrown it across the room in a panic. 

   Mark wasn't sure what time it was, but he could tell it was early enough that he should be getting ready for work soon. The sky outside was cloudy and grim, and yet Mark could just make out the faint light of dawn starting to illuminate the world through his rain soaked window. It was a peaceful morning, one which Mark had been dreaming of ever since moving across the ocean, though there was one thing that threw Mark for a loop: that song. _Susie Q_ could still be heard playing somewhere outside his door along this very floor. Fortunately the volume was low and faint enough that the tune had little chance of disturbing most from there slumber. To Mark, its presence mainly indicated that someone was up and about just like he was, since he refused to think of any other images this melody might stir within him.   

  He reached an arm out and grabbed hold of the wristwatch he'd left on his desk. It was almost five-thirty. Mark knew that he had to head down to the lobby where Malcolm was surely waiting for him. After washing up and getting dressed, he left the room, pausing only when he discovered the source of the music. Mark stared at Felix’s closed door and shook his head. He was sure that the blonde was a good guy, but God, couldn’t he have gone one day without listening to that noise? With a roll of his eyes, Mark headed down to the lobby, not wanting to bother with Felix at the moment. He would see him later that day, Mark was certain of that, and if he had the choice, he would prefer to put off experiencing Felix’s bold brand of ‘cheeriness’ this early in the morning.

  Malcolm was, as expected, already down in the lobby and reading his paper behind the desk. The sound of Mark’s footsteps alerted him to the American’s presence, and yet he didn’t bother to look up from his page of interest. “Mornin’, lad. How you feelin’ this fine day?” His voice still carried its usual cheeriness, but Mark could tell that the older man was deeply invested in whatever story he had turned to.

“Pretty good, slept fine.” Mark yawned softly and rubbed his left eye, which began to twitch slightly of its own accord. “Forgive me, this weather makes me a bit drowsy sometimes.” 

  Malcolm just smiled and gave Mark a soft wave of his hand, as if to say that Mark didn’t owe him an explanation. “You get used to it after a while. Besides, it doesn’t help that it’s Monday, eh?” He chuckled before turning his attention back to his paper. “Alright so you should know the drill by now. You did a hell of a job yesterday, so just keep up the good work! If you have any questions or issues just let me know, and when you're done, come to me and I’ll give you your pay.” 

  Mark blinked and looked at Malcolm with shock, as if he weren’t sure he'd heard the Irishman correctly. “Pay?” Mark bit his lip as he felt the good boy inside him started to creep up. “O-oh no, you don’t have to pay me. You've already given me a place to stay, so I can’t expect you to pay me as well!” 

“Now you shush up!” Malcolm said in a stern tone. “The payment won’t be much, but I can’t just leave you empty handed, can I? Besides, think of it as a way of helping you get use to the Irish pound, right?”

  Mark frowned, but thought about this. He supposed it made sense to start collecting some kind of income now that he was staying in this new country since he couldn’t survive alone on the meager amount of cash he'd already converted into the local currency. If he started saving up now, he'd soon have enough to afford his own apartment and pay a normal rent. Then his thoughts drifted to Jack; if he had more cash in his pocket then it would be much easier for the two of them to do things together. He wasn’t sure why he exactly he was thinking about scenarios like this, but he did know that the idea of having Jack pay for him whenever they went out to eat could not be permitted.

"Right, you're right,” Mark said with a nod, making up his mind at last. “Thank you Malcolm. Seriously, I really can’t thank you enough."

“No need to thank me lad, just keep doing what you're doing.”

  The day proved to be much quieter than the previous one, but that didn’t cause Mark to waver in his duties in the slightest. In fact, he found himself working twice as harder than he'd been to show Malcolm his gratitude.  

  While his mind was mostly focused on work, thoughts about Jack kept slipping through the cracks every so often, since the two had agreed to see each other again once their work for the day was done. Jack had made suggestion of grabbing coffee, claiming to know of a remote place where they could go without being disturbed. Mark had found the idea pleasing and had happily agreed to it. He had never been too big on caffeine, but how could he refuse such an offer? His mind kept busy by this and that, Mark went through his shift quietly and efficiently until he was left with only the task of picking up a few dirty dishes and glasses from the lobby. 

“Hey! Look who it is!” 

  Mark frowned at the sound of the voice before looking up to find  Felix lounging about in one of the over-sized armchairs in the lobby. The young man was dressed in pair of blue plaid pajama pants, a red sweatshirt with Snoopy on it, and a black winter cap that seemed too big for his own head. Mark couldn’t help but internally grimace at this sight; it was almost noon and it looked as if Felix had only now crawled out of bed. 

“Oh, uh... hey.” Mark put the remaining dirty glasses into his collection bin. “How are you?” 

“I’m doing good!” Felix stretched himself out against the couch, making his body seem longer than it really was. “Well as good as I can be what with the shit weather outside, but whatever! If weather is PMSing outside, then you just gotta bring sunshine into house.” He laughed at his own joke for a solid thirty seconds. “Excuse my broken English, It’s not my first language. I shouldn’t complain though, my girlfriend thinks it’s cute, so there’s your silver lining.” 

Mark was about to speak but Felix was quick to cut him off at the pass. “The name’s Felix, by the way! I’m from Sweden in case you can’t tell, but you probably already guessed that. So what about you? Where are you from? What’s your name? You work here right?"

Mark was almost at as loss from the sudden onslaught of questions. “My name is Mark and yeah, I work here.” It was the only question that Mark felt like answering. 

"Ha! I knew it!” Felix's cheery expression reminded Mark to tie up the loose ends from their encounter the previous day. 

“Look, about yesterday, uh... thanks for standing up for me like that. This job is really important to me so, I'm really grateful you didn't tell Malcolm about what happened.”

Felix laughed at his worry. “You heard all that? Well shit, these walls are thinner than I thought! Keep that in mind in case you decide to bring a girl over for the night.” He laughed once again and Mark could feel his cheeks start to turn pink. “But hey, don’t mention it, man. I mean, I just think we got off on the wrong foot that’s all! Let’s see if we can fix that though! What time do you get off?” 

“Uh, my shift is just about over, but-” 

“Good!” Felix quickly hopped on his feet and enthusiastically flung an arm around Mark’s shoulder, which took the American by surprise. “Then look, let’s say you and I go to town, stuff our faces with Irish food, and get shit-faced drunk! I’m fucking starving and I’m sure you are too! I just need to go upstairs and brush my teeth, so-” 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait!” Mark quickly pulled out of the other man’s grip. “Look, it’s not like I don’t want to hang out with you, but I already have plans to meet someone.”

Felix gave Mark a curious look at first, before he smiled in understanding. “Oh, really? Hey, that’s cool man.” He chuckled as his expression grew curious. “Who you hanging out with? Is it someone staying here? Because if it is, I probably know them already.” 

“N-no, he’s a local.” Mark paused for a moment; it was such an innocent piece of information to reveal and yet he wasn’t sure if it was a good idea to tell anyone this. Mark liked his privacy and he knew Jack did too, so the last thing he wanted was for Felix or anyone else to track them down and ruin this for them. 

“Aw nice! I really should meet some of the locals around here.” Felix smiled and adjusted his winter cap. “Alright, Mark, I’m gonna let you go now, but we will hang out together sometime! I don’t know when, but don’t think I’m gonna forget about you easily!”

  Felix gave Mark a wave goodbye before rushing up the stairs to the third floor. Mark sighed in relief and headed into the kitchen to deliver the last of the dirty glasses and dishes before he officially was finished working for the day. Grabbing his dark raincoat and umbrella from upstairs, he left the hostel by noon and made his way towards the town square. He and Jack had agreed to meet by the old church, as it was the second most recognizable landmark in town besides the old fountain, not to mention the most quiet one. 

  The square itself looked almost empty due to the heavy downfall of the rain, but this mattered very little to Mark as his gaze was transfixed on the large Catholic cathedral made of stone. Even though he wasn’t a religious man, he couldn’t deny the fact that the church was a true beauty. With its colorful stained glassed windows, ferocious gargoyle figurines lining the roof, and statues of saints that served as guardians and protectors to anyone that came within its sacred walls, the church presented itself as a piece of artwork in itself. 

As Mark looked closer, he could see Jack standing at the foot of the cathedral’s stone steps, an umbrella in hand. He was dressed in his signature black peacoat, a pair of jeans, and a dull grey scarf that protected his neck and jaw from the September chill. Mark took a step closer and Jack seemed to instantly feel the presence of the other man approaching him. He looked up and gave the American a weak, tired smile.

“Hey.” Jack fiddled his thumb against the small handle of the umbrella. 

“Hey.” Mark smiled back, more out of awkwardness than anything else. “I, uh, hope I didn’t keep you waiting for too long.” 

“Oh no you didn’t, I only just got here a minute ago.” Another pause, but Jack ended it shortly. “So what do you say we get out of the rain? I bet you're itching to drink something hot right about now.”

“You have no idea.”

  Jack lead Mark to a remote section of town with buildings that seemed older than most occupying the town. The street itself looked as if it had been untouched by time, and the small coffeehouse laid in its center could have easily been plucked straight out of the 1800s. Mark was surprised by how warm it was inside what looked to be a dark, drafty building, and the aroma of sweet coffee beans made the shop all the more welcoming to the American.

  The men walked to the counter and ordered their drinks, Mark asking for an espresso and Jack ‘the usual’. Mark couldn’t help but notice the way Jack stared at the brewers as they prepared their beverages, almost as if he was making sure that they didn’t ruin his drink somehow. He wasn’t sure what had made him notice this, but Mark was quick to shrug it off, feeling that it was not something he should be worrying about.

  They soon received their drinks and took their seats at a small table by the front window, which was soaked by the onslaught of heavy rain that seemed to show no mercy as it made its harsh descent toward the town below. The weather didn't bother them, though, as they were perfectly warm and dry inside the coffeehouse. They sat quietly across from each other for a moment before Mark decided to break the silence.    

“So, how was work?” he asked as he sipped from his cup. 

Jack shrugged. “It was good. A lot of people checked out today, so it’s gonna be pretty quiet for a while. How about you?” 

“Oh yeah, work was fine,” Mark answered.“It was pretty quiet this morning so I wasn’t too overwhelmed.” 

“Probably because everyone's still hungover from the night before.” 

Mark chuckled at this. “Yeah, that might have something to do with it.” There was a moment of silence. “So I guess that means you’ll be able to take a breather for a bit.”

“In a way, yeah.” Jack stared down at his drink. “I mean, I don’t mind it being busy and all, but that doesn't mean I’m not gonna take advantage of the quiet times when I get the chance.” 

  Mark nodded in agreement. “Oh yeah, I know how that feels. So, is there anything you like to do during your  quiet times?” Mark paused, it was such an odd question to ask. “I-I mean, I usually watch television.” Another pause. “Do they air The Twilight Zone in Ireland by any chance?” 

  Jack merely chuckled in amusement at his awkwardness. “I can’t say that we get many American programs here, but I've heard of that Twilight Zone from a few folks. I think I remember seeing a few episodes when I stayed in America, it was some pretty good stuff.” He grabbed a wooden coffee stirrer from the small glass jar on the table and began to swirl the contents of his cup. “Though, I really don’t watch as much television as I used to. I’m more of a book reader now.” 

“Oh, I see. Well, that’s good too.” Mark took a big gulp of his coffee. “Hell, I should be reading more books myself to be honest, so if you have any recommendations, I’d love to hear some.”

“Hmm, well A Clockwork Orange used to be my favorite for a while. I definitely recommend that one,” Jack said as he thought. There was a sudden sparkle in his eye. “Oh and Dracula, that's a classic!” 

“Dracula, really?” Mark asked with a surprised chuckle. “Heh, I remember watching the film with Bela Lugosi, but I never read the book. Is it as good as the flick?”

“It’s better!" Jack insisted. "I mean don’t get me wrong, the 1931 film is amazing, but the book is just so... oh, I can't even put it into words. It’s just so creepy and builds an amazing atmosphere of suspense! Everythin’ is told from different points of view in the form of letters so you get a good feel as to what’s going on in the character’s heads and-and oh Lord, it’s great! You're just gonna have to read it for yourself, trust me you won’t be disappointed!”

Jack fell silent when he realized that he’d been rambling on for several minutes, and about a book of all things. Feeling embarrassed, he tried to open his mouth to apologize, but before he had the chance, an amused Mark let out a chuckle. “Alright Jack, you sold me. The next time I’m looking for something to read I’ll be sure to keep an eye out for that one.”

Jack took his first sip of coffee and felt himself start to relax. “Well, good. I promise you won’t regret it.” He gave Mark a faint smile and took a much larger sip from his drink. “So, what about those shows they play in America?” 

“Oh, well Twilight Zone is great if you're into horror and mind-fucks,” Mark explained. “Though Star Trek was always my favorite thing to watch on television since anything involving space is great to me. I really love astronomy, always did!” 

Jack looked at him in amusement. “Do you now?” 

“Oh absolutely! It was my favorite subject in school. I mean come on, how could anyone not like space?” Mark could feel himself grow more excited as he spoke. “If I could visit the moon I would do it in a heartbeat! Hell, I almost wanted to go to college to study up on being an astronaut! If not that, then an Astronomy Professor, for sure!" 

“What stopped you?”

“Well, my father passed away and I joined the army instead.” Mark frowned at his sudden admission. He wasn’t sure why he was telling all of this to Jack. He didn’t normally bring up his late father or his discussion to join the army, and yet here he was admitting this to Jack. Who in return game the American a look of both surprise and fasination. 

"I never would have taken you for a veteran Mark.” Jack set his cup down and wiped his mouth. It was his turn to be curious about Mark now. “When I was in America, I remember hearing quite a lot about the war going on. Was..." He hesitated before allowing his curiosity to be unleashed. "Was honoring your father the reason why you joined?” 

“Well, yes and no.” Mark took a gulp of his coffee and ran a hand through his dark hair. “I joined because it felt like the right thing to do. Yes, my dad was a veteran and I wanted to follow in his footsteps, but I also joined because I wanted to for myself. The war broke out and I wanted to may my dad and country proud." 

_Go on baby-killer, go tell your new friend how much blood you spilled for Uncle Sam._  

  Mark felt his stomach began to knot from the voice that sneered in the back of his mind. He would have gripped his hair in frustration to make it stop, but he didn’t want to make an ass of himself, especially not in front of Jack. He despised this internal soldier that occasionally spoke to him, it always made him feel bitter and guilty about everything that's happened in his past. 

“Look, this is something I don’t normally talk about with people.” Mark looked down at his coffee as he spoke. "It has nothing to do with you or anything, it was just a rough time for me.” 

“That’s fine, I don’t need to know all the details about it,” Jack said reassuringly. “You never bothered me about my trip to America, so I have no reason to bother you about the war.” 

Mark gave him a faint smile. “Thanks Jack, I appreciate it.” He allowed them to sit in silence for a moment before he brought up a new topic for discussion. “So what about you Jack? Were there any classes in school that you enjoyed?” 

“Hmm, well, I always had an interest in psychology. I almost considered going to college for it, but I was an idiot seventeen-year-old at the time and I loved the drums more.” There was a short pause, where Jack reached into his pocket to take out a cigarette for himself. “Sometimes I wonder how different things would be if I'd just gone to college in the first place.”

“You know, it’s never too late to apply.” 

Jack took a puff from his cigarette and smirked a bit. “That does sound like a nice dream and all, but no.”

_You're too fucked up to be a shrink, you're a gross junkie._

  Jack didn’t respond to the voice in the back of his head, but it did leave him quiet and dazed. It wasn’t until he looked down and noticed the ashes from his cigarette starting to crumble onto the table beneath him that he returned to his senses. Jack blinked and giggled out of embarrassment.  

“Oh shite, heh sorry about that.” Jack brushed the ashes off the table. “I guess I just zoned out for a bit there.” 

Mark gave an unconcerned shrug. “No worries, happens to me all the time. Here, let me get the ashtray.” Mark reached a hand towards the small silver dish on the side of the table. 

“Oh, no it’s fine, I got it.” 

  Their fingers gently brushed against each other as they both reached for the ashtray. Mark cared very little about the accidental touch, but the contact caused Jack to make a startled noise and quickly pull his hand away, smacking into his cup of coffee in the process and spilling it all over the table. Both men gasped and jumped up from their seats as the contents of the warm beverage began to drip onto the floor. Jack stepped back and brought his now burned hand close to him, rubbing it soothingly with the one that wasn't injured. His eyes were filled with embarrassment and worry. 

“Oh God, oh shite! I’m sorry, it was an accident!” His panicked reaction was enough for Mark to grow concerned. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” 

“Whoa, hey it’s fine! It’s just a little coffee, that’s all!” Mark said, quickly grabbing a handful of napkins to soak up the liquid. “I’m the one who should be saying sorry. I didn’t mean to spook you like that-” 

“No, stop! Just stop!” Jack snapped, his voice dripping with frustration. “It’s not you, it’s me! All of this is me! I… oh God...” He sighed in defeat and ran a hand through his soft brown hair. Jack's gaze locked onto the mess on the table, as he couldn’t bare to look Mark in the eye.

“I... I don’t like being touched. It freaks me out. I’m like that with everyone. The only person I feel safe to even hug is my sister. I know this all sounds crazy to you, and it is. I just... I’m sorry.” Jack grabbed his umbrella from where it leaned against the wall beside his chair. “I’m sorry, I just can’t be here anymore.” 

“W-wait! Jack!” Mark reached a hand out to him. “Jack please, don’t go!” 

  His pleas falling on deaf ears, Mark could only watch as Jack left the shop swiftly and quietly. After struggling to withdraw the few coins he'd received just that morning from his pocket, Mark tossed them onto the table before retrieving his own umbrella. He tried to hurry out after the other man, but Jack had vanished before he even made it outside the shop. The rain had reduced to a light drizzle and deep puddles filled the cobbled streets, but there was no trace to be found of Jack anywhere. Mark stood still for a moment before cursing loudly and giving the wall of the coffeehouse a good, frustrated punch with his fist. Wincing loudly from the pain. 

  Why did he have to go and get that ashtray? He was too polite for his own damn good. Now he'd scared Jack away, and even though the logical part of his brain knew it wasn't his fault things had turned out like this,  all he could do was blame himself.


	5. Like a Rolling Stone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You used to laugh about everybody that was hangin' out
> 
> Now you don't talk so loud, now you don't seem so proud.
> 
> -Bob Dylan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holly shit sorry this took so long! It's been a hell of a week and this has been a hell of a chapter. There's actually more to it but I decided to split it in half, so yeah.  
> Now let's see what Jack's been up too since the incident at the coffeehouse. 
> 
> Warning: Past rape/non-con

_Jack sat in a crowded apartment that he shared with his roommate and girlfriend in the middle of Greenwich village and he was having the time of his life. All three had decided to throw a party for no particular reason but to simply have good time._ _  
_

_It was late in the evening and things were very peaceful among the guests. Some were sleeping and cuddling one another while others were entwined in each other's arms in a tight embrace fueled by both love and the afterglow of a drug’s euphoria. The music of Bob Dylan filled_ _the room as it blasted loud and proud from the record player in the small, messy kitchen of the apartment._

_Jack was on the couch with his girlfriend, Vianne resting her head on his lap, his body limp and his head lopsided against the couch. He had just taken heroin for the first time and it felt as though pure heaven was swimming through his veins. The euphoria he was experiencing was more extraordinary than any orgasm he’d ever had in his life. At that moment, Jack felt that if he had to make a choice, he would give up any form of sexual activity if it meant he could replace it with the poppy seed and feel this good for the rest of his life._

_Jack was happy, he felt like he was in heaven._

_“Having fun, babe?” Vianne whispered to him._

_“Mhm…” Jack nodded._

_“Aw, good.” She purred softly as she placed a soft hand against his crotch, which caused the Irishman to let out a stifled moan._

_There was a growing uncertainty building within the Jack’s stomach. He loved Vianne and how they made each other feel, but his mind was still hazy from the drug. Jack’s body was weak and he couldn’t think straight for sex. He may have been out of it, but he did his damnedest to resist her charms._ _  
_

_“H-heh, hey come on... not now.” Jack chuckled softly. “Not in front of everyone like this.”_

_“Oh stooooop,” she whined as she got on her knees between Jack’s legs, her face nuzzling against his bulge before unzipping his jeans and pulling out his semi-aroused cock. “You're so handsome, I wanna make you feel good.”_

_Vianne got up and settled herself onto his lap, her body hovered over his like a tower over a sidewalk. Jack started to feel sick then, probably because of the heroin but he wasn’t sure. As her long arms wrapped around his neck to draw him close, Jack placed his hands on her waist in an attempt to push her off, but the drug had made him so weak. Vianne simply took this as a means to press herself closer against his body._ _  
_

_“Vianne, please…”_

_“Oh God, I love you!”_

 

Jack woke up breathing hard from the sudden shock of the dream. He reached an arm out into the darkness of his room to grab hold of the flat clock that laid on the small table beside his bed. Upon realizing that it was only two o’clock in the morning, Jack sighed and forced himself to sit up.

His body was shaking, his stomach was in knots, and his skin was covered with a thin sheen of cold sweat. Jack’s first instinct was to hug himself and focus on his breathing, in the hopes that his body would calm down. It usually did the trick for him, but his stomach was churning so badly this time that he wasn’t sure if he could control it. It wasn’t until he felt the bile rush up his throat that he hurried out of bed and released the contents of his stomach into the bathroom toilet. There wasn’t much, since he hadn’t eaten anything since lunchtime, but this didn’t stop Jack’s body from reacting the way it did, as it quickly filling the toilet with thick foamy bile and spit. He stayed there for a minute until the feeling had passed, his body numb, yet feeling a little bit better.

Wiping his mouth with a piece of toilet paper, Jack walked over to the sink to rid himself of the aftertaste of bile with some mouthwash before heading back to bed. Jack slid beneath the covers and sighed as he blankly stared at the ceiling. He stomach felt better but the images from the nightmare still lingered in his mind like an unwanted slideshow. He'd been certain for while now that he'd stopped having flashbacks about his past; in fact, the last horrible dream he'd ever had was when he'd first moved to this rural town and that was just a year ago.

A whole year of sleeping somewhat normally and now this had to happen.

Jack knew he should be grateful, though. The last time he'd had a nightmare, he screamed so loud that he nearly got half the building banging on his door to see why he was causing such a ruckus. At least, this time, he'd managed to control his screams so that he was the only one bothered by them.

Jack lazily turned to his side, facing the window of his room that brought the dark night sky into view. He could feel his arm brush up against the book he had been reading before he went to sleep. At first, he didn’t pay it much attention, but eventually he took his fairly new, paperback copy of _The Exorcist_ into his hand and slowly sat himself up in his bed. Perhaps if he read a few pages, it would clear his head enough so he could go back to sleep.

Reading a horror story to go back to sleep. He would have laughed at the irony of it all, but he had none to give at the moment.

_Chris tried not to frown as she felt a dim and sudden concern. The child had loved her father deeply, yet never had reacted visibly to her parents' divorce. And Chris didn't like it. Maybe she cried in her room; she didn't know. But Chris was fearful she was repressing and that her emotions might one day erupt in some harmful form. A fantasy playmate. It didn't sound healthy. Why "Howdy"? For Howard? Her father? Pretty close._

_"So how come you couldn't even come up with a name for a dum-dum bird, and then you hit me with something like 'Captain Howdy'? Why do you call him 'Captain Howdy'?"_

_" 'Cause that's his name, of course," Regan snickered._

_"Says who?"_

_"Well, him."_

Jack's reading came to an abrupt halt when he noticed the warm droplet of water which had fallen onto the page. It didn’t take long for him to realize what was happening, and he hated himself for it. For the longest time, Jack had made a promise to himself that he wouldn’t get emotional over bad dreams ever again. He tried to hold it in and keep his focus on the book but as more tears began to drip from his eyes, Jack realized that there was no holding anything in this time. Shoving the book to the end of the bed, the Irishman curled into himself and began to sob. His tears soaked the fabric of his blanket as he used the material to muffle his cries. Jack wasn’t sure how long he cried for, but it was still dark out when it was all said and done. He felt tired and drained, but somehow this felt oddly soothing. As if his mind and body had reached a certain level of numbness that only a drug could provide. Soon he felt himself slipping back into the unconsciousness of sleep once more.

By the time morning struck, Jack found it quite hard to get out of bed. He didn’t want to go to work today, he wanted to stay in the protection of his bed and sleep the day away, but Jack knew that was out of the question. It was going to be one of those days where it felt like he had to wind himself up like an antique toy just to simply go through the motions of work until he could finally collapsed into bed and sleep for the rest of the evening. Jack hated days like this, but he always got through them; whether it be by some miracle or by the help of God himself, he always managed to pull through.

Forcing himself out of bed, Jack got dressed and brushed his teeth. On his small, cluttered kitchen table was a half-full mug of coffee that left over from the morning before. Jack grasped the mug in his hand and chugged the liquid down his throat in one deep gulp. The taste was cold and bitter against his tongue, but it made no difference to him. Coffee was coffee after all and he knew that he couldn’t start the day without it.

After locking his apartment door, he walked down the eight flights of stairs and made his way into the outside world. The air was just as cold and windy here as it was on the beach, making the walk to work a rather bitter and unpleasant experience, but still he marched on.

The hotel where he worked wasn’t too far from where he lived. It was a large and modern building that seemed to resemble that of an old ski lodge. The lobby itself was a spacious place with clean couches, posh tables, and decorative vases that gave off an air of prestige to it. It was certainly much bigger and more luxurious than Malcolm’s place, but to Jack, it seemed to lack the warmth and coziness which the hostel always provided.

Behind the counter of the lobby stood Caroline, a young, petite girl with green eyes and short dark hair. Jack always suspected her to be of Indian descent, but never bothered to ask. She was a nice girl, but Jack wouldn’t go so far as to call her a friend. Caroline was more of a close acquaintance if anything else, Jack talked to her while they worked and they got along fairly well, but that was as far as their interactions went. Jack never attempted to make an effort on spending time with her, nor she with him. It wasn’t that Jack disliked her, it was just that he simply couldn’t be bothered.      

“Mornin’ Jack!” Caroline greeted, her eyes glued to her freshly manicured nails. “How are you feelin’?”

_Like shit._

“Alright I guess,” he lied as he took his seat behind the counter next to her. “It’s just really cold out, though.”

Caroline scoffed. “Oh tell me about it! Though I think I’d bare it more if it wasn’t so windy. That wind is so harsh today.”

“Yeah, it is.”

They shared a brief chuckle and things grew quiet once more. Jack knew It was going to be a slow and quiet day, and in a way, he was grateful for it. He was in no mood to use up much energy and while the lack of work would make the day feel slower, it was actually a blessing for his still troubled mind.

The only silver lining he Jack to look forward to was that his sister Lauren was coming to visit him for the evening. While he was still in a funk right then, he knew that she would make him feel better, as she always did. Jack loved his sister very much. Out of his four older siblings, Lauren was the closest to him in both age and relations. Even when they were growing up together, she was the one that always played with him when he felt alone in the house, and she talked to him during those long hours of the night while everyone else was asleep.

He thought back to the first night he'd returned home after finishing his journey to America, when he'd suffered a similar horrible nightmare. Lauren had been the first to hold him when he'd woken up, her shoulder had been the first one he'd cried on as she stroked his hair and whispered soft words into his ears. It was the first and only time Jack opened up to her about all that happened to him when he was in America. 

Jack loved his family, he didn’t deserve them.

“You feelin’ alright there, Jack?”

Caroline's voice snapped him out of his thoughts. “W-what?”

“You feelin’ alright?” she repeated, her curious gaze upon him now. “You look like death.”

Jack simply shrugged. “I’m just tired, that’s all.”

“You always say that!” she said with a chuckle,“I swear, if you're having trouble sleeping then maybe you should get yourself a new mattress.”

_I don’t need a mattress, I need a noose around my neck._

No, he wasn’t going to think about that, he had no reason to think about that. Today was going to be good day-Lauren was coming to visit! Tonight he will talk to her and they will catch up with what was happening in their lives, and he'll show her just how much he’s improved. They will share a drink together and they'll laugh and have fun, just like when they were little. This was going to be a good day, Jack swore it to himself.

“I’ll keep that in mind, thanks.”

Caroline just shrugged and turned her attention to the checklist that was placed in front of her. Jack took out his book of check-ins from under the desk to give the illusion that he was keeping himself busy.

Even though he'd been trying to keep his thoughts at bay, Jack frowned as the memory of his last encounter with Mark crept to the forefront of his mind. He only had himself to blame for what had happened, he was sure of that. The worst part of the whole situation was that he hadn’t always been like this. There was a time in Jack’s life where something as innocent as an accidental brush of the fingers wouldn’t have him spilling coffee cups and running out of buildings in a panic. Those were the days when Jack used to be normal, the days when he wasn’t plagued with nightmares or terrified by the idea of intimacy.

With all this coming into mind, perhaps it was for the best that things between him and Mark had ended like they had. It wasn’t as though he liked humiliating himself in front of new people, but really he shouldn’t get too close to anyone now.Jack was a mess, he understood this completely, and the closer he got to someone, the more they would understand that as well. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever try to reach out to the American again, but probably not. Jack knew that Mark would see him as a burden as time went on, no matter how much he tried to keep his personal life to himself.

Jack still wasn’t sure how to feel about Mark. From the short time they'd been together, he'd seemed rather nice and fun to be around. Jack wouldn’t go so far as to say that he trusted Mark, but he was still pleasant to talk to and seemed harmless enough as a companion. For a while, Jack had almost believed that they could have gotten along and perhaps that they could have grown closer, but he was naive to believe  such a thing. Mark, for the most part, was kind and deserved a friend. What he didn’t deserve was a walking, ticking time bomb.

The rest of the day passed as slowly as Jack expected since most of the guests had checked out the day before, leaving the building with a peculiar air of emptiness. Of course, the day wasn’t without its occasional check-ins. For the few that decided to stay, Jack smiled and spoke politely as he usually did whenever a new guest arrived. Most were from different parts of Ireland, though one was from America. He honestly had no idea why all these Americans were flocking to Ireland all of a sudden or how they always managed to find him. By the time work had ended, Jack was more than eager to clean up his desk and slip into his coat.

“Heading home?” Caroline asked as she put on her own jacket.

“Yeah, my sister is coming to visit,” Jack answered. “I just wanna get things ready before she gets here.”

“Oh, that sounds nice.” She paused. “Um Jack, I have a question for you.”

“What is it?”

She hesitated. “I know this might seem out of the blue, but if you're not doing anythin’ this weekend would you like to maybe get a drink or somethin’?”

Jack's brows furrowed. “You... wanna get a drink with me?” he asked, as if he hadn’t quite heard her.

Caroline looked away shyly. “Y-Yeah. I mean, if you have other plans I understand.”

"No, it’s not that, it’s just... why do you wanna get a drink with me?” he asked curiously. “I mean, I don’t want to sound rude or anythin’, but you’ve never asked me to spend time with you before.”

Caroline bit her lip. “Well, to be honest, I’ve always wanted to get to know you a bit better, I just never had the gumption to do anythin’ about it,” she admitted.

“So, l-like a date?”

Caroline looked up at him in shock.

“What? On no, no! It’s nothin’ like that I promise you,” she said quickly, much to Jack’s relief. “I-I mean not that there’s anythin’ wrong you of course.” Her cheeks turned pink with embarrassment. “S-sorry, I didn’t mean to come off as insulting.”

“Oh no, it’s fine! I understand.” Jack smiled weakly to reassure her. “So, just friends, right?”

“It’s just that we’ve been workin’ together for almost a year and, I just...I feel like I don’t know anythin’ about you.”

_That’s a good thing._

Jack started to feel uncomfortable. He had now been put into a position that he sure as hell didn’t want to be in. Had he not just sworn to keep to himself from now on? Maybe if the aftermath of yesterday's incident hadn’t been lingering in his mind might Jack have taken a chance and followed through on Caroline’s offer.

Instead, he sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He wanted to say no, but at the same time, he didn't want to be rude. He had nothing against Caroline and the last thing he wanted to do was hurt her, but the fear of having another panic attack made him start to feel sick.

“I’m not sure what my plans are for the weekend yet,” Jack finally said. “I’ll let you know how things go 'til Friday comes around. If I’m available then, then yeah, I’d be happy to have a drink with you.”

A soft smile grew on Caroline’s face.

“Alright, that sounds fine with me Jack. I hope things work out as the week goes along.”

“Yeah, same.” Jack lied. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow Caroline.”

“You too Jack, stay safe.”


	6. Turtle Blues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh yeah, like a turtle hidin'
> 
> underneath its hardened shell.
> 
> But you know I'm very well protected - 
> 
> I know this goddamn life too well.
> 
> -Janis Joplin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hear it is! I really hope I did this justice when it comes to Jack and his current social life. (What little there is of it, that is)
> 
> If not, I tried. And some feedback/critique on this matter is always a plus, cause I really want to get it right.

The first thing Jack did when he arrived back home was dash straight to his kitchen to clean out the dishes that cluttered his sink. With Lauren’s arrival slowly approaching, he had to make sure that everything in the house was as clean as possible, not just for politeness sake, but also to assure Lauren that she didn't need to worry about Jack’s ability to take care of himself. With the dishes scrubbed and dried, and the mugs washed and put away in their rightful places, Jack then made his way into his living room to wipe down his table and plop the pillows back onto his couch.

Jack was considering whether or not to make his bed when he heard the sound of the phone ringing from the other room. Jack couldn’t help but feel a small wave of happiness begin to swell inside him. Smiling now, he hurried to the phone and answered it with a greeting to his landlord.

“Mr. McLoughlin?”

“Yes, hello sir, this is he.”

“Right, sorry to bother you.” The landlord spoke in a deep, robust voice that sounded almost tired. “I’m just callin’ to let you know there’s a woman down here askin’ for you, a Miss-oh, what’d you say your name was again lass?” There was a pause and Jack could hear a soft, feminine voice in the background. “Lauren! Yes, Miss Lauren. Does that name ring a bell to you, lad?”

“She’s my sister!” Jack said quickly. “I’ll be down in a minute, thanks!”

Jack hung up the phone and hurried down to the lobby, wishing the elevators could somehow move even faster. When he finally reached the lobby he quickly spotted a woman sitting on one of the chairs by the doorway. The woman looked up and quickly got on her feet when their gazes connected.

“Sean, is that you?” she spoke on a joyful voice. “Long time no see!”

Jack beamed. “Lauren?! Hey! You finally made it!”

The siblings laughed and embraced one another in a tight, warm hug. Jack hated being touched, but with Lauren it was different, as he trusted her more then anyone. She was the only one who was allowed to hug him like this. Well her and the rest of his family of course, but he always felt the most safe when it was with her.

They reluctantly let go of one another after a minute had passed and Jack gave her a genuine smile. “How was the ride over here?”

“Oh, it was alright.” Lauren said as they made their way across the lobby. “There was a bit of a delay on the way over here, but it didn’t last for too long.” She paused then and looked Jack over from head to toe before smiling at him again. “You look good Sean, you must be takin’ good care of yourself.”

_Not really._

Jack chuckled. “Heh, thanks Lauren. You look pretty good yourself. I hope you're not too exhausted from the trip.”

“Oh don’t you worry about me, I’m fine.” Both siblings walked into the elevator of the lobby with Jack eagerly pressing the 8th floor button. “Though, I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t kill for a cup of tea right about now.”

“Don’t you worry, Sissy. Once we're inside I’ll get the kettle out for the both of us.”

After they made it into the apartment, the siblings walked into the kitchen to make the tea. Jack had never been much of a tea drinker, but he always kept his kettle around just in case he had visitors. Well, really he kept it around in case his sister or any other family members dropped by, since aside from them, Jack never once had a visitor to speak of.

“So, how are things up in Dublin?” Jack asked as he filled her a cup.

"Oh, the usual.” With their teas in hand, the siblings took their seats in the small kitchen. Jack listened intently as his sister spoke. “Work’s been good on my end and It’s been a quiet year so far, though everyone’s a mite on edge.”

“I can only imagine.” Jack took a sip of his tea and winced softly as the heat stung the tip of his tongue.  “A-are the bombings really as bad as they say?”

“Hm, it really depends who you ask, to be honest,” she answered. “So far there’s only been two bombings this year and all of that resorted in nothing but vandalism. I can’t speak for what’s going on in Belfast, but you can rest assured that Dublin is a walk on the beach in comparison.” She took another drink of her tea and sighed. “It just bothers me that all this is trickling down to the Republic. Now nobody knows what to do about it.”

Jack frowned and took out his box of cigarettes from his pocket. “You know if things get too dangerous, you can always stay here for a bit.”

Lauren smiled sweetly at him. “Don’t worry Sean, I’ll be fine. Things are crazy up there, but it’s not enough for me to start thinking about moving away just yet. I swear, though the sooner this whole thing blows over, the better.” She took another sip of her drink and gave Jack a playful look.“Ma  
and Pa are worried about you, though.”

Jack raised a brow. “How would you know?”

“Because I actually keep in touch with them, you silly thing.” She giggled. “They've been writing to me and it looks like you’ve raised some concern amongst them.”

“What are they worried about now?” Jack groaned as he lit a match.

“Two things really. First reason is that they always worry, and the second is that you stopped writing to them.”

Jack rolled his eyes at this. “Just because I’m not writing to them every fuckin’ minute doesn't mean I disappeared off the face of the earth.”

“I know, Sean, but you know how Ma and Pa are,” Lauren insisted. “They worry about all of us.”

Jack shrugged and took a puff from his cigarette. He felt no ill will towards his parents, in fact he loved him just as much as he loved Lauren, but he found them to be overbearing at times. When he'd returned from America, his parents had welcomed him back with open arms and given him more love, patience, and forgiveness then he felt he ever deserved. They truly cared about him, but now it seemed like they worried too much about him. Jack couldn’t blame them for feeling that way though; after all that’d happened to him in the past, it’s no wonder why they would worry about him.

Jack never wanted to let his parents know about what happened to him in America. When Jack first opened up to Lauren, he begged and pleaded with her not to tell Ma or Pa, but she did in the end. Jack was so furious with his sister that he nearly brought her to tears and refused to speak to her for almost a week. As time past he felt so horribly guilty and finally spoke to her again, both of them apologized to one another and talked till the sun began to rise.

Jack understood why Lauren felt the need to tell Ma and Pa, he held no resentment for what she did, but he still found Ma and Pa’s constant worry to be a burden. Things were different now. Jack was stronger now and he was ready to move on and start fresh.

Well, so he kept telling himself, that is.

“Speaking of which, I’ve been meanin’ to ask.” Lauren spoke in between sips of tea. “How have you been, Sean? Has everythin’ been okay?”

_I tried to drown myself in freezing cold water by the beach a couple of days ago._

“I’ve been good.” He exhaled another puff from the cigarette. “Work’s been keepin’ me busy. I started reading this new horror novel. It’s called _The Exorcist_. I’m not sure if you've heard of it, but it’s pretty good so far.”

She smiled again. “No, I don’t think I have, what’s it about? Besides the obvious of course.”

“Heh, I’m still not sure yet, I’m only a couple of pages in,” Jack admitted. “Though so far there’s been a priest that’s gotten spooked out of his mind from finding a demonic statue in Iraq and an actress whose daughter is playing with a Ouija board.”

“Oh I think I have an idea where this story is going.” Lauren giggled and sipped her tea again. “Have you been sleeping well, Sean?”

_I had a nightmare where my late girlfriend forced herself on me last night._

“Yeah, I’ve been sleeping alright.” Jack pressed the end of his cigarette against the cold glass of his ashtray.  He wanted to change the subject, and fast.

“I met someone a few days ago.”

It was the first thing that popped in Jack’s head, much to his dismay.

“You have?” Lauren’s eyes lit up with fascination. “Oh Sean, that’s so nice! What’s their name?”

Jack hesitated. “Uh, his name was Mark.”

“Was?” Lauren asked with a raised brow.

“I mean... it didn’t end well.”

“Oh dear, what happened?” She looked at Jack with concerned eyes. “He wasn’t cruel to you, was he?”

“N-no, it’s nothin’ like that. He was actually...” Jack paused and looked down at his hands that were now folded on the table. “He was actually really sweet to me. He wasn’t nosy and he actually seemed interested in me and what I had to say. It was nice, it... made me feel normal again.”

Jack didn’t look up, but he could still sense the pain radiating from his sister’s eyes. “Sean, you are normal.”

There was something about those words that Jack found to be very unsettling. He wished that he could believe that it was true, that he was ‘normal’. Yet there was always that same, nagging voice in the back of his mind that made him want to scream, that made him want to snap and tell Lauren that she was wrong. That there was nothing normal or sane or clean about him, because had that been the case, he wouldn’t have to constantly give himself a pat on the back just for simply waking up to see another morning.

“Sorry.” Jack said in a hushed voice. He wasn’t going to think about it. He wasn’t going to let his mind wander down this dark road again, especially not in front of Lauren.

“You know I love you Sean,” she said in a warm, comforting voice. “me, Brian, Susan, Malcolm, Ma and Pa... we all love you. No matter what happens you’ll always have us to talk to. Remember that, okay?”

“I know Lauren, I know.” Jack sighed. “I love you guys too.”

Lauren tilted her head, she could sense Jack’s annoyance so she quickly changed the subject back to the man her brother recently befriended. “So, what happened between you and Mark then?”

“We were getting coffee, and my hand brushed against his. It was an accident but I made an arse of myself and spilled my drink, I was so embarrassed that I just got up and left.”

“Oh, Sean...”

“I’m sorry.”

“Sean, no there’s nothin’ to say sorry about, you did nothin' wrong!" Her words were honest and true, but Jack had a hard time believing them. “Besides I’m sure things will be better once you see him again right?”

Jack bit his lip when he heard those words, they came out too positive for his liking. He quickly grabbed hold of a fresh new cigarette and light it with ease.  

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea.” He said quietly as he inhaled from the small stick of cheap tobacco.

“Why?” Lauren gave Jack a worried look. “I thought you enjoyed his company?”

“It seems a bit awkward don’t you think? I mean I ran out on him in the coffeehouse, I doubt he’d want to see me after that.” The nail on his index finger began to tap against the wooden table. “I think it’s best if I just stayed away from him, I don’t wanna embarrass myself anymore.”

Lauren gave him an odd, curious look. “Sean, it was an accident.” She insisted. “You're not seriously goin’ to avoid someone over some spilled coffee are you?”

Jack looked away and scowled, he said nothing but he could feel his frustration began to grow and it took everything inside him not to lash out. It wasn’t just the coffee, it was everything. Lauren was none the wiser though, she sighed in annoyance and perched her elbow on top of the table.  

“Look, I’m not tellin’ you to ask him to move in with you or anythin’, I’m just sayin’ that you should try to talk to him again.” She said calmly, though her annoyance with her brother's stubbornness was beginning to boil. “You can’t let one bad accident ruin things for you, I’m sure he would understand if you talked to him.”

“I don’t like talkin’ to people.” he said bitterly.

“At least try to reconsider it, Sean?” There was a hint of pleading in her voice. “I promise, if one more incident happens then you're free to cut him off however you see fit! Just, give it another chance, please?”

“Why do you care if I make friends or not?!”

“Because I hate seein’ you lonely, Sean!” Lauren finally snapped, Sean was taken aback.

"I'm not tryin' to force you to be a socialite like you use to be, if you're comfortable begin on your own then that's great! Trust me if there's anyone in the world who likes being by themselves  more than me. I'm just sayin' there's a difference between being an introvert and purposely isolatin' yourself from everyone around you! It's not healthy Sean, you know it and I know it. Just...please...if you won't do it for yourself then do it for me, please."

There was a tinge of guilt, how the hell was he suppose to respond to that? Yes, he was lonely. Yes it sucked at times, but at least when he was lonely he felt safer than he did when he was around most people. Jack didn’t hate people, in the past he always prided himself on how good he was on recognizing people by there judge of character. Now he had no idea who to trust anymore, but he wouldn’t dare tell Lauren this. He had no idea what the future had in store for him. If he did see Mark again, how would things go? Hell, if he did decide to go get drinks with Caroline, would things even go well or make things worse? In reality it just boiled down to one simple question: Stay in his comfort zone or explore beyond it?

“The things I do for love…” He sighed out a puff of smoke. “Alright, I’ll consider it. I’ll try to reach out to him, but don’t be surprised if he wants nothin’ to do with me.”

Lauren smiled at her younger brother and reached a hand up to ruffle his hair playfully. “You're too much sometimes, you know that Sean?” She giggled. “Your such a stubborn thing, sometimes.”

Jack was about to speak, but was quickly interrupted by a dull rumbling sound that almost seemed to echo through the small flat. Jack put a hand on his stomach which began to feel queasy, he hadn’t had anything of substance all day save for the cold sip of coffee he had before going to work. Lauren’s giggling only intensified and Jack could feel himself turn pink with embarrassment.

“H-heh, sorry about that.”

“You apologize too much, Sean.” Lauren finished the last of her tea and walked over to place it into the sink to clean for later. “Why don’t we go and get a late lunch?”

Jack considered this, he was planning on making something of the both of them but he figured that whatever food served at a restaurant would be much more appetizing than anything he could prepare.

“Sure, I know just the place to go.” He smiled and got up from the chair. “Only if you let me treat for you.”

“Oh you know I can’t let you do that, Sean.” Lauren said in her best HAL impersonation, which was enough to make the younger sibling chuckle.

The two left the apartment side by side, and for a split second Jack thought about what Mark was up too at the moment. He was sure that the American was fine though, after all he was under Malcom’s care, so there was no cause for alarm. Wherever the American was, or whatever he was doing, Jack hopped that he was happy.


	7. With a Little Help from My Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What do I do when my love is away?
> 
> Does it worry you to be alone?
> 
> -The Beatles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boy this was a long time coming, aside from work and life in general, this chapter was kinda tricky to put into words. Like you know those moments where it makes sense in your head but for some reason it's tricky to write down? Yeah it was like that, but hey! It's done, granted it's not edited so it's raw, but it's done!

Mark sat at the old worn out desk and stared blankly at the open journal that laid innocently before him. A cigarette burned slowly between his fingers as he tried to gather his thoughts on what to write. It had been days since the incident at the coffeehouse and ever since then, Mark had locked himself into the small confines of his bedroom once work was finished. The room itself was in complete disarray, dirty clothes laying scattered across the floor like piles of rubble, his bed sheets bunched up in a small pile at the end of his mattress. The air around him was stale and reeked of cigarette smoke, but Mark made no effort to crack open a window, nor did he make an effort to even try and tidy the small space he occupied.

As long as Mark was still breathing, he was alright.

Thirty minutes passed since opening his journal and when it became clear to Mark that there was nothing worth writing about, he simply leaned back against his small wooden chair and turned his attention to the cigarette in his hand. His lungs had gotten used to the sting of the tobacco smoke and Mark found it to be a much better substitute than booze. He’d be lying to himself if he said that he wasn’t tempted to go back to drinking hard liquor, but a cigarette would do just fine. Oh, if only Jack could see him now, Mark thought to himself, and witness how he'd finally mastered the ways of the cigarette.

_Heh, you holdin’ up alright there, Mark? You sound like you're gonna cough up a lung!_

_Pff, don't’ worry, I’m fine! Besides, I think I’m getting the hang of it._

Mark made no reaction to the memory, but he could feel his stomach starting to lurch with guilt. Days, it had been days since he'd last seen Jack; it had been days since he'd made an effort to open up to someone for the first time in a very long while, and it had been days since it all had ended just as quickly as it had started. Part of him wanted to find Jack again, to seek him out in town before getting down on his knees and begging him for forgiveness. The other part, however, knew that this would be a shamelessly desperate course of action to take and that it would probably frighten Jack even further. Mark tried to come up with a solution, but he didn’t know what to do, and not knowing what to so made him feel like garbage.

Try to get close to Jack, scare him away.

Try to keep an eye out for Arin, have him die in a pool of his own blood.

Mark sighed and gripped his hair in frustration. This was starting to get ridiculous. He needed to get his mind off of Jack and he sure as hell needed to stop dragging Arin into this. It wasn’t healthy to focus so heavily on someone like this; he needed to worry about his own health first and foremost. Perhaps he could find a hobby. Hobbies were always a blessing; Mark used to have several when he was younger. He remembered joining the choir when he was in high school; he remembered taking a Masters course in astronomy and enjoying every second of it; he remembered when he used to have interests that didn't involve locking himself away from the world. However, looking back though all of his past interests made them seem childish to him now. Mark figured this was to be expected, since how often do people keep the same interests they had when they were teenagers? Mark knew damn well that none of the things he'd been interested in had been important. In the end, he chose civil duty over astronomy. He chose Vietnam over the choir. The past couldn't be changed, so all he could do was try to twist his future into something more acceptable, something decent.

Mark turned his focus back to the journal, which consisted of meaningless ramblings of how his day had gone, though there was one line that caught his eye. He wasn’t sure what had possessed him to write this stream of rubbish, but it was there and he'd erase it of he could, if he hadn’t written it in ink.

I miss you. I feel sick. I’m sorry.

Mark read the line over and other again in his head as though he were trying to memorize it. He wasn’t sure if he was addressing this to Jack, Arin, or the both of them at once. All he knew was that he was tired. Mark had no more energy to write anymore for the evening. He was dangerously close to getting lost in his thoughts again, and he knew that could spell disaster, yet he had no urge to resist it all. Taking one last puff from his cigarette, Mark rammed the butt into his journal and watched in amusement as it sizzled through the layers of smooth pages. Pulling the cigarette back, Mark stared at the burnt hole that he'd created as a silent numbness began to overtake him.

Funny. He was hoping for the whole thing to burst into flames…

Mark was quickly snapped out of his thoughts when he heard a loud knock at the door.

“Hey Mark! You in there? It’s me!”

Mark sighed when he recognized Felix calling to him from outside the room. He wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or annoyed by this interruption. On one hand, Felix was someone to talk to, a good distraction as it were, and yet at the same time, it was still Felix. Forcing himself out of his chair, Mark made his way through the mess of scattered clothes and opened the door.The young Swede stood before him in all his glory, his jeans ripped and baggy, his blonde hair a mess. He looked like a vagabond in every sense of the word and yet carried himself with an astounding air of confidence that easily made up for whatever shaggy appearance he may have had.

“Hey, hey! Look who it is!” he said with a smile. “Shit, you look like a mess, but that’s okay! I do too, so we're even.”

Mark rolled his eyes at him. “What do you want?”

“I just wanted to see if you were free.” Felix leaned his body against the door frame. “Or do you have plans with that guy you met in town?”

Mark suddenly wanted to throw up. “I... no, but-”

“Perfect!” Felix clapped his hands together, cutting Mark off before he could finish his sentence. “I'm going out for a night on the town! Wanna come with? Don’t worry, it'll just be a with few people from the floor. I know you wanna, no point in trying to hide it.” he finished with a playful smile.

“What?” Mark asked, not fully comprehending what was being asked of him.

“I did swear that we’d hang out together! You didn’t think I’d forget, did you?” Felix grinned. “So what do you say? You up for some drinks?”

“I don’t drink.”

Felix just laughed in amusement at this, while Mark's expression grew annoyed. “Seriously?”

“Yeah. Seriously.”

“Well, can you eat at least?”

“I’m not hun-” Mark was quickly cut off by a loud rumble that came from his empty stomach. His face flushed with embarrassment, but Felix only grinned at this.

“I’ll take that as a yes!” Felix draped an arm around Mark’s shoulder and patted him enthusiastically. “Alright Mark, we're gonna be heading out at six. Don’t worry about finding me, just wait here and I’ll come knocking on your door when the time comes!”

Mark groaned and slapped the hand away. “Felix, could you-”

“No later then six, my friend! I’ll be knocking!”

The Swede left the room before Mark could utter another word of protest. Mark would have allowed himself to be mad, but he stopped once he finally got a good look at the surrounding area and realized just how much he'd let the place go. Mark would admit that he was never the tidiest of people, but this went beyond simple laziness in terms of being a slob. It wasn't just the room, but his physical appearance had also taken a toll thanks to his misery. His hair was a mess, his jeans and buttoned up shirt were dirty with ash stains, and his eyes were marked with dark, heavy rings.

Mark struggled to make sense of it all. He'd completely let himself be swept up in a wave of despair and over what? A young local that he'd only known for a few days? A young local who Mark, by all accounts, wouldn’t even bat an eye at under normal circumstances? Mark exhaled sharply from his nostrils and scooped up the dirty clothes from his floor, tossing the piles into the hamper beside his bathroom door. After wiping the ash from his clothing, he hurried to his small bathroom and turned the shower on. The whole point in moving to Ireland was to put his past behind him, and he’d be damned if he let something like this bring him to the brink of madness again. Mark was stronger than this and he wasn’t going to let anything cause him to forget about that. Not Jack, not Arin, not the war, and certainly not his own damaged mind.

By the time six rolled around, Mark’s living space was far from the cluttered mess that it had been a few hours ago. The now empty floor had been swept, the bed had been made, and the window was open just a crack to fill the room with that cool Irish air. Though Mark was dressed as casually as ever, in a grey sweatshirt and a pair of jeans, he was clean and felt much more refreshed than he had been before Felix had shown up.

_Knock. Knock. Knock._

Sighing, Mark reached for his coat and answered the door to find Felix standing there, right on cue, dressed in his usual casual attire. Mark wasn’t surprised when he noticed that Felix wasn’t alone. Beside him stood a young but tall woman with brown hair containing faded streaks of purple that Mark recognized from the floor, but whose name escaped him. Felix had mentioned once that he had a girlfriend. Could this be her? No, it couldn’t be. Could it?

“Hey-hey!” Felix grinned and turned to the woman beside him. “Minx, you remember Mark, right?”

“Oh yes, how could I forget?” Minx grabbed Mark’s hand and gave it an enthusiastic shake. “Hi there. The name’s Michelle, but my friends calls me Minx.”

“U-uh, hi! It’s nice to finally meet you.”

Minx smiled and released Mark’s hand, tilting her head slightly in amusement. “Hehe. It’s funny, I always see you working around the lobby, but I’d never gotten a chance to talk to you face-to-face.”

“Heh, yeah likewise.” Mark slipped his hands into his coat pockets. “I’m usually so caught up with doing chores around the hostel that I never really have time to chit-chat.”

“Well, now we’ll have all the time in the world to chit-chat tonight.” She reached a hand out and patted his shoulder affectionately. “So you're from America, huh? I’ve actually visited there two years ago. It’s a lovely country!”

“Uh, thanks I guess.”

“Oh, stop being so damn modest already.” Felix slapped his hand on Mark’s shoulder and gave it a playful shake. “Now come, my subjects! Let’s get the hell out of here before I kill myself.”

Mark locked his door and said a quick goodbye to Malcolm at the front desk before the three of them made their way out into the town square, which seemed more crowded than Mark had ever seen it. The streets were filled with loud, energized people calling out and laughing amongst themselves as they happily made their way through the cobbled streets. Each pub and tavern they passed appeared more full than the last one. Some even had groups of people loitering about outside, talking loudly to each other as they waited for a table in their establishment of choice to open up.

“Alright, alright, alright! Where to first!?” Felix rubbed his hands together and inspected the bustling town around him. “I don’t know about you guys, but I’m so hungry I could eat ass. Uh, no, that’s nasty, I apologize. Not really.”

Minx erupted into a small fit of laughter. Even Mark, against his better judgement, let out a soft chuckle. It almost sounded like something Arin would say; in fact, it was fascinating just how much the Swede reminded him of his fallen friend.

Minx sighed as her laughter began to fade.“Heh, well if we're gonna eat somewhere, I suggest we find a place with the least amount of people crowding around outside. I don’t feel like waiting two hours for dinner.”

Felix let out a cocky laugh. “Don’t worry, you guys are with me! If anyone knows how to sniff out a good meal, it’s me.”

The trio wandered around the bustling town like a small group of scavenging wolves as they searched for a place to dine and drink. The air wasn’t as cold as it had been the past few days, but it carried with it a delicious, savory smell that made Mark nearly sick with hunger. That was when a familiar image caught Mark’s eye. He quickly recognized the pub by its sign of a black rabbit trapped within a pale blue disk. He remembered how Jack had recommended the establishment to be a good place for drinking, but he never once brought it up as a place to eat. However, it was a risk that Mark was willing to take.

“How about this place?” Mark gestured to the pub. “I hear it’s pretty good and it doesn't look too crowded.”

Maybe that’s why Jack had recommend the place to him.

“Do you think they sell food there?” Minx asked. “I mean, some of these places are just watering holes, you know.”

“Well, there’s only one way to find out, right?” Felix grinned. “Come on, let’s give it a shot.”

Felix lead them into the pub, which was about as full as any place would on a typical Saturday evening. Mark glanced around the interior and noticed how the walls were decorated with pictures of planets and star maps that looked to be taken from a medieval manuscript on astrology given how they were illustrated. One such frame held the picture of a finely detailed wheel of the western zodiac, which Mark found to be very amusing. Even the ceiling was painted in such a way that it resembled a starry sky. Had he not quit drinking altogether, Mark could have seen himself coming here every once in awhile. He even went so far as to consider coming here with Jack, even though the chances of that ever happening seemed very unlikely.

“Oh look, I see people eating!” Minx said as she gestured over to a young couple who were happily biting into savory pies as they shared a pint of Guinness. “What do you say? I’m fine eating here if that’s alright with you guys.”

"This place is fine with me. What do you think, Mark?"

“Huh? Oh sorry! Yeah, I’d like to eat here too.”

Felix grinned and clapped his hands together. “Then it’s settled!” He looked around the pub for a table or a spot at the bar but sadly came up empty. “And now...we wait.”

Fortunately, after fifteen minutes of waiting, the three gathered into a small booth by the window. It wasn’t the best spot in the world, as it was the booth closest to the front door, which allowed a cold breeze to sweep over them every time someone entered the pub, but given how crowded the establishment was and how it would only get busier if more time was wasted waiting for a better seat, they were more than willing to take what they could get.

“I gotta say Mark, this is a pretty nice place.” Mink nodded as she examined the star painted ceiling. “How did you ever find out about it?”

Mark rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, a friend of mine recommended it. We were walking through town and he pointed this place out to me.”

“This is the same guy who lives in town, right?” Felix asked as he yanked off his black cap, revealing a nest of dirty blond hair. “Shit, what’s his name anyway? I think you told me before."

Mark could feel his shoulders droop slightly. “Jack, his name is Jack.”

“Jack, huh? Nice, I really wanna meet this guy now. Mark, you should bring him over to hang out sometime.”

“Y-yeah, sure.”

“Then it’s settled! All four of us should meet up tomorrow and get shit-faced. Mark, ask Jack if he’s interested.”

Mark furrowed his brows. He would have protested this idea for many reasons but, much to his relief, they were interrupted by the approach of the waitress. After ordering a few drinks, (Mark of course only settling for water), savory pies, and a plate of fish n’ chips, the waitress left the trio alone once again.

“So, uh... Minx! You said you've visited America, right?” Mark asked quickly, eager to change the subject. “What part did you visit?”

“New York.” Minx smiled and leaned back against the cushioned seat of the booth. “I was visiting some friends at the time for that music festival at Woodstock.”

Felix blinked in surprise by this revelation. “You were at Woodstock? Well shit! Why didn’t you tell me? You know how much I worship Hendrix!”

Minx only laughed. “I did tell you, remember? I said I saw Hendrix perform when I visited America.”

“Well yeah, but I didn’t know it was at fucking Woodstock!”

Minx shrugged her shoulders and chuckled as the Swede gave her a playful pout. Mark naturally found it hard to relate to such events, since he'd been fighting in a war at the time instead of playing around and listening to music all day. Still, he did his best to listen to their stories, lest he seem rude.

“What about you, Mark? Been to any concerts?”

“No, I can’t say I have.”

“Got a favorite band you’d like to see live?” Minx asked. “I always loved the Kinks, and the Who is pretty great too.”

Mark paused for a second to think. “Well, do you guys listen to Frankie Valli?”

“Mmm not often, but I know him enough thanks to my girlfriend,” Minx admitted. “She’s a big fan of the Four Seasons too. I’m sure she would have a field day talking to you about them.”

“Oh, uh, swell.”

“There you go again being shy and shit. I love it!” Felix laughed and gave Mark a playful smack on the arm. “Oh shit! Speaking of music, I can’t believe it’s almost been exactly a year since Hendrix died.”

“Oh my God, you're right.” Minx sighed when this fact dawned on her. “I know he died on the 18th so that's like, what? In eight more days? Jesus, it’s fucking crazy.”

“Oh God, I know. I can’t say I’m too surprised that he’d go down the way he did though,” Felix admitted with a slight hint of sorrow in his voice. “Still, I just wish it hadn't been so soon, you know? The man was a musical genius and he still had so much more in him to share with the world.”

Mark tilted his head at this. “You... really like his music didn’t you?”

Felix raised a brow at Mark but chuckled. “Like it? I love it! Jimi Hendrix was kind of a big deal for me growing up. When I was in high school, I was in a bit of a weird, sad funk for a while. It was mostly just stupid teenage drama, but sadness was there nonetheless. Then, I think I was seventeen or eighteen at the time. My friends took me to see him live and just like that, I had an instant eye-opener! My whole world changed and I wasn’t sad anymore.”

“Wow, that’s great.” Mark couldn’t help but smile. “Though I gotta say, It’s really hard to imagine you being in a sad funk.”

Felix chuckled again. “Yeah, I know it’s hard to imagine, but it’s true. I mean, I feel like we’ve all been through a tough time like that, you know? Like, we all have baggage to we carry around with us, no matter how well off we might look to other people.”

Before Mark could say anything else, the waitress arrived to place their meals onto the table. The large mugs were ice cold to the touch and the delicious pies and fried fish release a rich, savory smell that almost had Mark leaping onto the table to ravish any morsel he could get his hands on. However, he did his best to control himself; hungry or not, he didn’t want to come across as some kind of savage.

“Alright guys! First drinks of the night!” Felix grinned and raised his glass. “A toast to us and three cheers for life!”

“To happiness!” Minx called as she too raised her glass of Guinness and clinked it against Felix's. “Come on, Mark, that means you too!”

“Oh right, sorry!” Grabbing his glass of water, Mark quickly raised it up alongside his companions and thought of what to cheer for before clinking his glass with theirs.

“To the future!”

Mark wasn’t sure how long they stayed at the pub, though by the time Felix’s fourth glass of Guinness arrived, the window behind them revealed a pitch black sky and a lively town that glowed in the darkness, like torches in a cave. Felix was by far the drunkest out of the three, but he still managed to carry with him an air of fun and charisma that would had been drowned out by loud obnoxiousness had it belonged to anybody else. Grinning and merry as ever, Felix slung one arm over Mark’s shoulder and shamelessly sang songs from his teenage years, not caring at all who heard him or how badly he slurred his words.

“Pictureh yourself ina boat ona river...with tangerine tree and marmalade sky…somebody calls you, you answer quite slowleh, the girl with kaleidoscope eyesss…”

Mark said nothing, but he smiled along at the Swede's antics, and even rocked back and forth in his seat beside him as Felix swayed to his own drunken beat. Minx, while a bit more sober than Felix, laughed and sang along as she clung to her half finished drink on the table. Despite not imbibing at all, Mark still managed to enjoy himself quite nicely. It was actually almost surprising to him how much fun he was having. At the moment, the guilt he'd been harboring over Jack and Arin seemed little more than a faint memory. He was enjoying himself and he hoped Jack was too, wherever he was.

“...where rocking horse people eat marshmallow pies...oh fuck! I want somethin’ sweet now!” Minx declared as she finished the last of her meat pie. “Do they sell cake here?”

“If it’s dessert you want, I know there’s this sweet shop not too far from here.” Mark said, “Jack showed it to me when we-”

“Oh Jack, Jack, Jack! Thath all I hear you talk about!” Felix giggled. “You know what we should do? I say after this we find where he lives, kidnap him, and drag his ass to the beach so we can go skinny dipping! Whadda say?!”

“Heh! Get us a few girls to come along, I’m right witcha!”

Mark made a grimace. “First of all, no. Second of all, he would never agree to do anything like that. Third of all, I’m sure he would call the cops on us if we even tried it. And lastly, well, did I say no already?”

“Pffff! Oh come on Mark, don’t be such a prude!”

“I’m not being a prude, I’m using common sense. Besides, it’s too cold out and I don’t feel like bothering him just so we could convince him to get naked with a bunch of strangers.”

Minx grinned. “Do you like him?”

Mark blinked, almost as if he didn’t hear her clearly.

“I-I’m sorry?”

“Do. You. Like. Him?” she repeated as she guzzled down the last drop of her beer. “And I’m not talking in terms of friendship either.”

Mark tried to open his mouth to speak but he couldn’t find the words. It was as if his throat were caught in someone's tight grip that refused to release him. Minx was drunk, she had to be! Why else would she be asking Mark this? He should have just written if off as a joke, and yet, why did the question make him feel so awkward? Mark wasn’t gay, and he was certain that Jack wasn’t either. Even so, it was not the sort of question you would ask someone so openly about.

“It’s okay if you are," she quickly added. “I just so happen to like that waitress over there myself.”

Felix let out a chuckle when he saw Mark’s face began to turn a light shade of red. It was now clear to Mark that when Minx meant ‘girlfriend’ she wasn’t referring to a simple lady friend like his mom did back at home. It was the real deal, a partner and lover of the same sex. Mark was by no means horrified by this, shocked yes, but not horrified. In a strange way, he almost felt relieved.

“So... I-I’m not a third wheel then?”

There was a short pause, before Felix and Minx burst into a fit of laughter. Mark felt his face turn pink with embarrassment, and yet part of him was relieved by this revelation.

“Me and her? Naaaaawww!” Felix shook his head slowly, his mouth grinning madly with bliss. “I gots me a girlfriend. Her name’s Marzia and she’s hot as sin, my friend! You’ll see her soon, she’s coming over here in a week. ”

“Yeah she’s cute, I admit.” Minx said. “But she’s got nothing on my Kris of course. She’s my sweet little angel.”

“Shut up!”

“Make me!” Minx laughs. “So tell us Mark, is Jack ‘hot as sin’ or is he a sweet little angel... or both?

“O-oh, no... Minx, it’s not like that! I mean-not that there's anything wrong with that it’s just.” He paused to gather his thoughts. “I just, I’m not into men like that. We're just friends.” At least, that’s what he told himself. “Besides, even if we were, and I’m not saying we are, but I’ve only known him for a few days. Don’t you think you need a little more time with someone before you decide whether you like them or not?

Minx shrugged, but nodded in understanding. “You're not wrong, Mark, a good amount of time and patience goes into liking someone in that sort of way. But since you're not gay, then it’s nothing for you to be worried about.” She smiled. “Besides, I’m sure you guys are really good friends and that’s all what matters, isn’t it?”

Mark wasn’t sure what to say. Things like sexuality had never been discussed back where he lived. If you were a man you were always expected to find yourself a nice girl and get married, simple as that. It was something Mark himself never gave much thought to. He’d dated plenty of girls back in high school and he'd enjoyed their company very much. When it came to men, though... he wasn’t sure. He wished he could say that he wasn’t attracted to members of the same sex and yet, he remembered how there had been a few times in school where he'd looked at a fellow male student and thought about how handsome he was. However, he'd simply written those instances off as platonic feelings of admiration for how well they took care of their bodies and appearances, and nothing more. Still, the idea of him and Jack... him and Jack together... no, that would be impossible. They were just friends, nothing more, nothing less... or at least they used to be. Or maybe not? Mark didn’t know.

“We... are good friends," he finally replied. "No... we were."

“What do you mean?” Felix asked, arching a brow.

“I mean, something happened and, well, we haven’t talked to each other since Monday.” Mark found himself reaching into his pocket and lighting a cigarette.

‘Well shit, Mark, did you insult his favorite music or something?”

Mark shot Felix a glare at the remark. “No, it wasn’t like that! It was... fuck I don't even know.” He ran his free hand through his hair and sighed out a cloud of smoke. He wasn’t sure why he was telling Felix and Minx about this, but at the same time he really couldn't care less. “I scared him away. I didn’t mean to. I was just trying to get a napkin for God’s sake.”

“So you just got in a little argument over napkins or something?” Minx asked with a curious look.

“W-what?! No! It wasn’t like that at all.”

“Well whatever is was, you guys stopped talkin’,” Felix interrupted. “You know what that means, don’t you Mark? You gotta get back in there and patch shit up, simple as that!”

“What?!”

“Ya! You heard me.” Felix shook his head and tried his best to speak as clearly as possible over his slur. “Now, I may be drunk, but if there's one thing I know it's that when it comes to shit like this, you gotta make the first move! If you scared him away then you gotta make things right and apologize.” He paused then. “Well, unless he did something wrong to you. Then it’s the opposite.

“Look, I know what you're saying and I really appreciate you trying to help me, but this is something between me and Jack. I’ll take care of this in my own way. I don’t really need to-” Mark quickly silenced himself and his body tensed when he gazed over at a particular spot at the bar. For a moment he thought his eyes were playing a cruel trick on him, but he wasn't so lucky.

Minx snapped her fingers to get his attention. “Hello, Mark? You feeling okay?”

“He’s here,” Mark muttered. “Son of a bitch, Jack’s here.”


	8. Go To 'Him'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Help how was I to know,
> 
> My leaving would hurt [him] so.
> 
> -Jefferson Airplane

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow 110 kudos, thank you so much to anyone who's reading this story! It really means a lot, so thank you all again! On that note, I would also like to point out the lyrics. 
> 
> I would say that the only time I would tweak up the lyrics is for the sake of gender matching. I'll try to keep to gender neutral songs as best I can, but for now, read on, enjoy, feedback and critique is a plus, and stay awesome.

Jack sat alongside Caroline at the crowded bar of the Black Rabbit sipping casually at his beer. When his co-worker had first asked him to join her for a drink over the weekend, Jack never believed he would actually go through with it. If he were being honest, he would have much preferred to spend his Saturday night alone in his flat. He would have curled up in bed and went about reading his horror stories, Pink Floyd playing in the background on his record player to help him relax; or maybe he would've made a cup of coffee and watched reruns of Monty Python on the television. When it came down to it, though, Jack couldn’t bring himself to fake an illness or make up an excuse for the sake of getting out of an evening with Caroline, not after what Lauren had said to him about how he shouldn’t isolate himself from everyone.

Even though this advice had been good enough to get him out of his flat, it didn’t help Jack at all when it came to the thought of confronting Mark again. Jack’s first attempt had been to walk over to the Sleepy Moores and confront him head on, but every time he approached the building his nerves would consume him and he would pull back just before he could even touch the door handle. Jack knew that if he were to enter the hostel, he would not only have to face Mark, but Malcolm as well, and God knows who else that might remember him. In the end, Jack finally decided to give up on entering the building at all. His nerves having gotten the best of him, Jack turned away and vomited in a nearby trashcan before fleeing the premises.

_Why did this have to be so hard?_

Jack hated it. He hated feeling like this.

“I have to admit Jack, I’m glad we were able to do this.” Caroline smiled at him. “I haven’t had the chance to go out like this in quite some time. I’m usually either too tired or too busy, so this is a nice little break.”

Jack smiled back, trying his best to ignore a loud group behind him who were slurring the lyrics to 'Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds' in a drunken stupor. “Yeah, it’s a nice feelin’ isn’t it? Heh, I mean I would know! I used to go out a lot.”

A giggle escaped her lips. “I used to go out a lot too, so the feelin’ is mutual.”

“Heh, right.” Jack took another sip of his beer as he tried to think of a topic of discussion for the two of them. “So, uh... how are things with you outside of work?”

“Things have been pretty good,” Caroline answered. “I got this recipe book last Thursday that’s been keepin’ me busy. It’s mostly comfort food, but who doesn’t like a good stew? Besides my ever growing arse, of course.”

Jack started to laugh. “Stop it, you look fine!”

“Heh, thanks, but you know it’s true.” Her smile grew wider. “It’s not like we're all blessed with as thin a frame as the one you have.”

“Well if it makes you feel better, I think I’m way too thin to begin with, so I will happily take some of that stew off your hands next time around.”

“I will certainly keep that in mind, thank you! It’s funny, my mum usually says the same thing.” Caroline’s cheery mood soon began to falter. “She went up north to visit my uncles for the weekend.” She sighed and rested her chin in her hands. “I told her to be careful. I mean, I’m sure she’ll be fine, but still.”

Jack frowned. He could tell by her gloomy expression what she was referring to. “Don’t worry, I’m sure she'll be alright.” Jack’s lips curved into a sympathetic smile. “I know what you're feelin’. My sister lives in Dublin and I worry about her all the time.”

Caroline turned her gaze to him as he spoke.

“I know that she’ll be alright though,” Jack continued. “And I know your mother will be alright too, and when she gets back you can have someone more lively to spend your evenings with instead of my dull arse.”

Caroline giggled and smiled softly at his words. “I don’t think you're dull, Jack, quite the opposite really.”

“You're just sayin’ that.”

“No, it’s true,” Caroline insisted. “I swear, you can be too hard on yourself sometimes. You’re sweet, fun to talk to, and you're much more positive than I could ever be. Seriously, how do you stay so positive?”

“Your guess is as good as mine.” Jack smiled wryly and took a large gulp from his bottle.

“Speaking of which, how are things with you outside of work?” Caroline asked. “I’m sure your life is much more interestin’ than mine.”

Jack merely shrugged. “Things have been alright for the most part. I mean, there’s nothin’ about it that I would consider interestin’, exceptin' my sister’s visit that is.”

“Oh yes, I remember you sayin’ somethin’ about your sister seein' you.”

“Yeah, it was nice seein’ her again.”

“I’m sure it was, given everything that’s going on, lately,” Caroline said before she took a sip of her drink. “So what did you guys do when she got here?”

“Not much really,” Jack admitted. “We talked over tea, had a late lunch in town, then we shared a coffee. Next thing I knew it was getting late and she had to take the train back home.”

“Sounds like you had a nice evening.” Caroline smiled at him sweetly. “I mean, had it been any of me brothers visitin’ me, the first thing they’d want to do is have a drink in every pub in town, though that can be pretty fun as well.”

“Heh, I’m sure.” Jack chuckled. “This might sound crazy, but I think I’m not that big on the whole pub hoppin’ thing anymore. I think I’ve gotten too old for it, I mean, if my slightly greyin’ hair is any indication to that.”

Caroline only laughed. “Too old? I thought you said you were twenty-one?”

“I did say it would sound crazy, didn’t I?”

“Well, I hope you don’t turn into one of those grouchy old buggers by the time you're thirty.”

Jack rolled his eyes, but chuckled at the humorous jab. “Only if you agree to push my wheelchair around.”

They both shared a laugh and went back to their drinks. A moment of silence passed between them before Caroline slowly got up from her stool. “I need to go use the loo for a bit. Do you mind keepin’ an eye on my drink?”

“Not at all!”

Jack watched as Caroline left the bar before turning his attention back to the beer that he held in his hand, tilting his wrist ever so slightly so he could watch the contents of his drink swirl and tilt within the glass. He would be lying if he said that he wasn’t enjoying himself. He liked spending time with Caroline and even went so far as to consider doing this again with her. His thoughts then wandered back to Mark and how great it would have been if all three of them could enjoy a weekend drink together. Jack knew for sure that Mark would get a kick out of the Black Rabbit given the man’s enthusiasm for all things space-related. However, he also knew that such a thought was nothing more than empty wish fulfillment.

Jack frowned at this realization and a feeling of doubt began to linger in the back of his mind. Suppose he was setting himself up for disaster and this little friendship with Caroline went up in flames like it did with Mark.

What then?

No, Jack wasn’t going to think about that; for now, he was having fun. As much as he would love for Mark to be there with him, he wasn’t going to sulk about it. He was in a very good mood and he was determined to stay that way.

“Oh, oh! She’s getting up!” Felix whispered, giving Mark’s shoulder a good hearty shake. “Now’s your chance! Get over there and talk to him!”

“Are you fucking insane?!” Mark snapped. “I can’t just go up to him like some weirdo. Do you have any idea how strange that’d be?”

“Oh come off it, Mark!” Minx scoffed. “What’s wrong with saying hello? It’s not like he’s gonna chop your head off if you do.”

“It’s not that I’m worried about! It’s just…” Mark ran a hand through his hair and gripped it gently. He should have known that it would only be a matter of time before he bumped into Jack again given how small the town was. “What if he tells me to leave? I mean, he’s with someone who I can only assume is his date. What if I just make things awkward for him? I can’t do that! I should just-”

“Well if you're not gonna talk to him, I will!” Felix announced. His words were slurred, but determined as ever. “Don’t worry Mark, you can thank me later!”

“Don’t you dare!”

Right before Felix was about to stand, he was quickly pulled back into his seat. Mark's grip was by no means painful, but it was firm enough to keep the Swede in place. The last thing he needed was for Felix to stumble up to Jack and quite possibly spur him into a heart attack.

“Bah! What the hell, Mark?!” Felix whined as he readjusted himself in his seat.

“Leave him alone!” Mark whispered harshly. “Look, I know you're trying to help, and I get that, but this is between me and Jack. If I want to talk to him, I will, but now is not the time or place for that!”

Felix of course was going to have none of it and he was about to open his mouth to protest, but he was quickly cut off when Minx put a hand on his shoulder.

“Alright, Mark, fine. You don’t have to talk to Jack if you don’t want to. No one here is gonna force you to do anything.” Minx sighed and rested her chin against her folded hands. “Although, if you do plan on reaching out to him, I say the sooner the better, especially now that he’s right there in front of you, but that’s just if I were in your shoes. If you want to wait 'til God knows how much longer, then that’s up to you. The choice is yours.”

Mark arched a brow at these words. Certainly it wasn’t the kind of answer he was expecting, yet he found himself feeling both grateful and frustrated. Grateful that Minx wasn’t trying to pressure him into confronting Jack, but frustrated that everything she'd said was right. Jack was here, right in front of him and, at the moment, completely alone. Mark sighed and turned his gaze over to Jack, who still seemed oblivious to what was happening at the small booth behind him. Even though his back was facing them, Mark could easily recognize the slender frame and the short brown hair. Furrowing his brows, Mark forced himself out of the booth, unaware of the victorious grin that crept onto Minx's face as he made his way towards the bar.

Once Mark was within earshot of Jack he took a deep breath. There was no turning back now.

“Jack.”

Jack’s brows furrowed and he turned to address the man behind him. It took him only a moment to register the identity of the stranger and when he did, he could feel his stomach began to plummet like a rock in the ocean. His clear blue eyes turned into saucers, his hands tightened around his glass, and his mouth opened and closed, as if trying to speak, but the words refused to escape his lips.

“W-what the... Mark?”

“Hey, Jack.” Mark slipped his hands in his coat pockets and clenched them into nervous fists. “L-Long time no see, right?”

Jack could feel his mouth start to dry. “What are you doin’ here?”

“I... well, I was dragged here by some friends from the hostel.” Mark gestured to the booth where he had been sitting with Minx and Felix. “I mean, ‘dragged’ seems like a hard word, more like ‘invited’. I just happened to spot you at the bar and... yeah.”

Jack looked towards the booth Mark had gestured toward and bit his lip when he was noticed. Felix grinned and gave them a wave while Minx simply greeted them with a lift of her drink. Jack said nothing, but Mark quickly realized what was going on in the other man’s mind the instant he saw him scramble for his box of cigarettes.

“W-wait! I-I just wanted to say hi!” Mark said quickly. “I’m sorry if I’m bothering you! Really, I'll go and let you go back to your date-”

“She’s not my date!” Jack blurted out, much louder than he wanted to. To his relief, Mark stayed put in spite of his sudden outburst. Jack was by no means prepared to talk to Mark right then, but he didn’t care. Mark was here now and if this was his one chance to make things right again, so be it.

“What?”

“She’s not my date, Mark,” Jack repeated, though in a much calmer tone. “She’s just a friend. We work at the front desk together and she convinced me to get a drink with her.”

“Oh, I see,” Mark reached a hand behind his head and scratched the back of his neck. “Well, uh, I should probably get back to my table. I don’t want to feel like I’m intruding on your evening or anything.”

“Mark, wait…”

It was barely a whisper, but it was enough to make Mark stop and turn his attention back Jack. His expression was one of curiosity and surprise.

Jack looked down, but spoke clear and honestly. “Please, you don’t have to leave just yet. You're not intrudin’ on anythin’. In fact, I-I’m kinda glad you're here.”

Mark arched a brow. “You are?”

“Yeah, I-I’ve been meanin’ to reach out to you for a while now.” A wave of guilt started to bubble in Jack’s stomach. “I’m sorry for what happened at the coffeehouse. I shouldn’t have reacted like that.”

“Oh come on, don’t beat yourself up over that.” Mark’s words were sweet and sympathetic. “It was an accident. Besides, I’m the one who should be apologizing.”

“You don’t understand.” Jack buried his face in his hand. “I still overreacted. All you did was touch my hand. That’s not normal. Nothing I did was normal.”

“But you are normal.”

Jack wrinkled his nose at this, a familiar feeling of bitterness starting to resurface like it always did whenever someone uttered those words to him.

“You sound like my sister…”

“It’s true though!”

“And what would you know about it anyway!?” Jack snapped, giving Mark a frustrated glare. “Can you tell me how normal it is to be on the verge of a panic attack whenever someone so much as tries to put their hand on your shoulder?!”

Now it was Mark’s turn to be upset. “Jeez, Jack I don’t know, but you wanna know what isn’t normal? Try freaking the fuck out and hiding under tables whenever you hear a goddamn book drop on the floor!”

Jack was quickly taken aback and even Mark seemed shocked by his own words by the way he took a step backwards. It didn’t take long for Jack to understand what it was that Mark was referring to, as well as to light himself a cigarette in silence. Mark also remained quiet, unsure as to what to say next.

“I’m sorry,” Mark finally said. “I didn’t mean to snap like that.”

“No, it’s okay. I’m sorry I snapped too.” Jack looked up and gave Mark a weak smile. “Maybe this is something we should talk about when we're alone... wouldn’t you say?” Jack said quietly as he took in a puff from his cigarette.

Mark nodded in agreement. “Yeah, good idea.” Oddly, Mark began to smirk. “So, when you say we should talk about this when we're alone, does that mean you’d want to meet up sometime in the future?”

Jack couldn’t help but smile at this. “If by the future you mean tomorrow afternoon, then yes, I would love to. Or maybe...” Jack paused before spitting his words out quickly. “I-It’s really nice out tonight! Maybe... maybe you’d want take a walk with me on the beach later?”

Jack instantly began to regret the question. It was such a stupid thing to ask. It almost made it sound as if he were desperate... well, maybe he was to a certain degree? He wasn’t sure. All he knew was that Mark was probably going to reject his offer. He was already out with his own friends and God knows what they were going to do later in the night so it made sense to say no, but Jack had missed Mark so tremendously that his offer couldn’t be helped. However, the stronger his desires to spend time with the other man became, the stronger his fear became as well.

Did Jack really want to be all alone with Mark on some dark, vacant beach where no one could hear them? Yes, Mark had yet to do anything to hurt him and he didn’t seem like the type that would, but that didn’t matter in Jack's paranoid mind. This kindness that Mark had shown him could be nothing more than an act; did Jack really want to open a door that would ultimately lead him to more abuse? Especially now knowing that Mark could go off at any sudden noise? It didn’t matter though, the damage was already done. There was no turning back now.

Mark of course was surprised by the suggestion, but the idea of walking on the beach with Jack sounded very pleasant. He, Felix, and Minx were ready to head back to the hostel anyway and it wasn’t late enough to call it a night either. Mark had no idea if those two had any other plans, but he was sure they'd understand if he told them he wanted to spend some one-on-one time with Jack. Finally, Mark made up his mind. He was about to answer, but paused when he saw a young woman with dark hair approach the empty stool next to Jack. The woman quickly took notice of Mark and looked up at him with what had to be the greenest eyes that Mark had ever seen in his life.

“Hey Caroline!” Jack said quickly as a wave of relief washed over him. “Uh, I would like you to meet Mark. I met him last week on the beach.” Jack raised a hand and gestured to the American beside him. “Mark, this is Caroline.”

The woman smiled politely and reached out to shake Mark’s hand. “Hello, Mark, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too.”

Mark released her hand and Caroline blinked in surprise when she heard him speak for the first time. It was not a look of infatuation but rather one of curiosity by the way she tilted her head. “Oh, so you're American? I honestly wasn’t expecting that. I’m sorry if I come off as rude, it’s just that you don’t often see a whole lot of Americans around here.”

Mark responded with a chuckle. “I don’t think you're being rude at all. I’m from the state of Ohio and you don’t see a lot of Irish folk around, so I’d probably say the same thing if it was you visiting the States.”

“I can’t say I would disagree with that. So then, are you visiting?”

“No, I actually moved here permanently a couple of days ago. It’s a long story, but right now I’m just making ends meet over at the Sleepy Moores.”

“In that case, I hope you're enjoying it here in Ireland.”

“He will if he doesn’t die of boredom first,” Jack chimed in, which was enough to get a chuckle out of both Mark and Caroline.

“So, you two met on the beach?” Caroline asked curiously. “Well, that’s really sweet.”

 _"There was nothing sweet about it"_ , Jack thought bitterly. Still, he remained quiet and listened as Mark continued to talk.

“Yeah, the beach.” Jack could tell that Mark was thinking the same thing. “It was really by accident, but we’ve been just good friends ever since, right Jack?” Jack responded with a roll of his eyes, but he managed to let out a nice chuckle despite everything. Mark smiled back and continued to speak. “Speaking of the beach, I think I might take a walk there later tonight. Like say... ten o’clock? What do you guys think?”

Caroline was a bit confused by Mark’s question, but Jack was quick to pick up on it. For a moment the Irishman couldn’t believe it, thinking that perhaps he might have misheard, but no.Mark really wanted to see him. Mark wanted to be alone with him and Jack was... honestly afraid. All he had to do was say no. Tell him that ten was a horrible time and that he should do it tomorrow, where there were people and witnesses around.

“I think ten sounds like a grand time,” he finally squeaked out.

“Ten it is then!” Mark said with more enthusiasm than he'd expected. “Alright, I’m sure you guys want me out of your hair, that and my group is probably wondering what’s taking me so long, so I should be going.”

“Alright then. It was nice talking with you,” Caroline said politely. “Have a good evening, Mark. Take care of yourself.”

“Thanks, the same goes for you two.”

Mark gave Jack one last smile before heading back to his seat. Jack was still trying to wrap his brain over what had just happened, because it all seemed a bit surreal. It wasn’t so much that Mark had been happy to meet him at the beach, but the fact that Jack had actually agreed to it. Jack wasn’t sure whether to curse himself for wanting to wander off into some dark, secluded part of the beach with some stranger from America, or be happy that he was blessed with this second chance.

“Well, he seemed nice,” Caroline said with a smile.

“Yeah, he is.”

Jack said nothing more and decided to order another glass of beer. He felt as though he needed it for the sake of his nerves. Perhaps he truly had gone crazy. Jack knew that the bar was loud but he could have sworn he heard a loud, hearty laugh coming from the table where Mark was sitting. It sounded male but Jack had heard Mark laugh once before and it certainly sounded nothing like his. Jack simply groaned and went back to smoking his cigarette.


	9. Echoes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An echo of a distant time
> 
> Comes willowing across the sand
> 
> And everything is green and submarine.
> 
> -Pink Floyd

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holly crap here it is, it's long, kinda boring and just wee bit pretentious. 
> 
> But it's still important neither less, sorry for the wait. (the next chapter is probably gonna be even longer then this lol)
> 
> Special thanks to Ocelot_l who helped me with feedback/edits.

It was no later than nine by the time Jack and Caroline left the pub and he managed to depart with a sense of enjoyment when it finally dawned on him that the evening had not turned into a complete disappointment. He'd left the house, had a drink, gotten to know Caroline a bit more, and even was able to talk to Mark again. Granted, he'd found the last one to be both a good and a bad thing, but that was beside the point.

“I had fun Jack. Thanks again for agreeing to come out with me,” Caroline said with a smile. The two were making their way through town, Jack having agreed to walk her home. It was the least he could do to thank her for inviting him to join her for the evening in the first place. “Who knows, maybe we can do this again sometime.”

“You... would really be okay with that?” Jack asked, as if almost in disbelief.

“Of course I would. Why wouldn’t I want to hang out again?”

“Nothing I just…” Jack had to force himself to blurt out the question he'd been considering for a while now. “I-If I asked Mark to join us next time, would you be okay with that?”

“Sure!”

Perhaps his dream of going out as a trio wasn't just some hapless fantasy after all. Things could always change, though, so he wasn’t keeping his hopes up just yet, but it was still a nice thought either way.

After saying their goodbyes once they reached Caroline’s flat, Jack made no hesitation in hurrying back to his own place so that he could prepare for the beach. He knew it was going to be cold so he geared himself with the essentials: a thick buttoned up coat, grey scarf, a pair of black wool gloves, and a pocket knife for protection. It was odd, really; Jack was reluctant to bring the pocket knife with him and almost felt guilty. He’s been with Mark before and he knew that the American had done nothing to hurt him. Yet, there was still this underlying fear in the back of his mind that convinced him that he should be at least somewhat protected. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Mark, he tried to rationalize, he was just being careful.

By the time he'd reached the beach, Jack was already tucking his face into his scarf as a cold wind blew against him, chilling his skin. The sky above him was dark as ever, but the stars were plentiful and scattered across the sky in a dazzling display of lights and constellations. Even the moon was full and shone brightly against the darkness, its pale reflection illuminated against the inky black waters of the Irish Sea, which seemed to be the only thing from preventing it from becoming one with the dark horizon and forming a black, endless abyss. Jack walked closer to the shore line and stared out into the sea in silence as he allowed himself to get lost in the sound of the waves crashing against the sandy shores of the beach.

Jack loved the beach, especially the ocean. He remembered how his family would all go to the beach during the summer to visit his grandmother when he was very young. When Jack was that size the waves always seemed bigger than they were and more frightening, but now they seemed rather inviting. It was almost as if the sea was ushering for him to join it and God, he would if he could. How nice would it be if he could just turn into a fish and swim as far away as he could.

  
It was said that no light could reach the ocean floor and that everything there was cold and shrouded in darkness. Jack tried to imagine what that was like, a frozen world of endless black, his only source of light being the bio-luminescence of the creatures which inhabited such dark depths. It would be such a frightening place to live... frightening, yet beautiful at the same time.

“Jack.”

The Irishman tensed slightly when he heard his name. He turned around and was instantly greeted by the presence of Mark himself. Mark stood there with his usual heavy coat buttoned up to the brim, his hands shoved deep into his pockets to protect them from the cold. It looked as though he were freezing, which Jack understood; as used to the cold as Jack was,  
he was a bit chilly himself.

“Hey,” Jack said in a hushed voice. “You made it.”

“Heh, yeah sorry if I kept you waiting,” Mark said apologetically. “Felix was so drunk we had to carry  
him back to Malcolm's. The tricky part was getting him to his room. Let me tell you, it’s not easy walking up three flights of stairs with a drunk Swede leaning against your shoulder.”

Jack raised a brow. “Felix?”

“You probably saw him,” Mark said. “He was the guy waving to you from the booth.”

“Oh, right, I remember,” Jack said with a nod and then just a faint hint of a giggle. “But that’s okay, Mark, you didn’t keep me waiting for too long. Besides, I think that was nice of you to make sure your friend got back to his room in one piece. I didn’t know you were such a mother hen.”

Mark rolled his eyes, but chuckled. “I think I would have preferred old cock, but mother hen has a nice ring to it.”

“God, you're so odd, Mark.”

“Guilty as charged.”

They shared a chuckle at this and began to walk down the dark, vacant shoreline of the beach. Jack took out his pack of cigarettes and offered one to Mark, the other man humbly accepting.

“So, how’re things with you?” Mark asked as he took a long drag of his cigarette.

“Mmh, same old. Not much has changed really,” Jack answered. “It’s only been a week, you know?”

Mark chuckled in amusement at this. “ Hey you’d be surprised. There’s a lot that could happen in just a week, you know.”

“Did something exciting happen to you at work this week?”

“Well, no,” Mark admitted, “but that’s beside the point! The point is that anything _could_ happen  
in a week. Life is full of little surprises like that."

Jack rolled his eyes but smirked. “To be fair, I did get a chance to see my sister this week.” His voice took on a reminiscent quality as he puffed casually from his cigarette. “She came in from Dublin. It was nice.”

“Sister, huh.” This was the third time that Jack had bright up his sister to Mark. Naturally, Mark was curious. There was so much about Jack that Mark knew so little about. Yes, he knew that Jack wanted it to be that way, and that it was very hypocritical of Mark to even think about this considering that he wasn’t exactly open himself. They'd both agreed that they wouldn’t talk about their pasts, and yet it was these little things about Jack that Mark loved hearing about. Little things like his family, where he was from, what made him happy or sad or scared. Just little things. Simple things.

“What’s her name?”

“Lauren.”

“What did you guys do?”

Jack shrugged. “Nothing too interesting. We had some tea, went out for a late lunch in town, then we went back to my place for some coffee.” He took another drag from his cigarette, his lips forming a hint of a smile as he exhaled. “It was still nice to see her, though. Talkin’ to her always puts me in a good mood.”

“I take it you two are very close then.”

“Heh yeah it if wasn’t obvious enough.” Jack chuckled. “When it comes to my siblings, she was the one that I always had the strongest relationship with. It’s not that I don’t get along with the rest of my siblings, it’s just that she was the closest to my age growing up and we were just able to bond better because of that.”

“Just how many siblings do you have?” Mark asked curiously.

“Four.”

Mark quirked a brow at this. “Four?!

“Yeah, that’s right.” Jack said in a matter-of-fact tone. “I have two older sisters and two older brothers. I know, it’s hard to imagine that I’d be the youngest, but it’s the God honest truth.” He turned to Mark and smiled at the surprised look that crossed the American’s features. “What, don’t you have any brothers or sisters?”

“No! I mean yeah, kinda.” Mark ran a hand through his hair as he tried to piece his words together.  “I mean, I used to have an older brother named Thomas, but that’s it as far as siblings go.”

Jack’s smile began to falter. “Used to? As in, dead?”

“No no, he’s not dead, he’s just dead to _me_.”

Jack paused from asking his next question. He wasn’t expecting something like that to come out of Mark's mouth, nor was he expecting it to be spoken so casually. He tried to read Mark’s face, but the other man kept his gaze on the sand below him as they walked. “What?”

“Long story short, the war was going on. He got a letter saying that he had to serve. The next day he was gone.” Mark’s eyebrows furrowed, his head remained down, and his voice turned bitter. “There was no warning, no goodbye, just a letter saying that he was leaving for Canada and that we shouldn’t go looking for him. I never saw hide nor hair of him since. He was just... gone.”

At this point, Mark had no reason to feel sad about it. Yes, he was angry, but not sad. Thomas was dead to him, simple as that, and there was nothing else to say on the matter. So it was no wonder that Mark was so surprised to look up and see true sadness in Jack’s eyes. He looked genuinely hurt by this information and Mark couldn’t understand why.

“I’m sorry, Mark,” Jack said in a low voice. “I can’t imagine what that must have been like for you. I mean, between your father and then that, it’s just... you don’t deserve that. No one does.”

Mark’s shoulders dropped slightly, but his eyes grew softer at Jack’s words. “Hey, don’t be sorry. It’s really not as bad as it sounds.” God how Mark wanted to put a hand on his shoulder. “Besides, I still got my mom and friends back home, so I’m not completely alone.”

“Did you say goodbye?” Jack asked.

“Goodbye to who?”

“Your mom and friends before you left to come here.”

“Of course I did!” Mark reassured. “I mean, I know I’m horrible but I’m not that horrible, you know?”

Jack smiled sweetly. “I don’t think you're horrible, Mark. You can be really nice if you want to be.”

“Heh, you're too sweet.” Mark sighed and took a long drag of his cigarette. His brother always left a horrible taste in his mouth. He never liked talking about him and always avoided the subject if possible, but it made sense that Jack would feel bad for him,seeing how close he was to his sister and all. The idea of having a sibling that would outright betray you was probably the worst thing imaginable in Jack’s eyes.

Feeling as if it were the best time to change the conversation, Mark knew just what to turn to. “So, I don’t suppose you've read any good books lately, have you?”

“I have actually!” Jack said quickly before exhaling a large cloud of nicotine from his lips. “Have  
you ever heard of a book called _The Exorcist_?”

“No, I haven’t,” Mark answered. “What’s it about?”

“Oh, it’s about a little girl that gets possessed by the devil,” Jack said in the most casual tone Mark  
ever thought possible. “It’s really good! So much creepiness, but I love it! I’d lend it to you but I already promised Corie I would-the fuck are you laughing about?”

“I’m sorry Jack, it’s nothing really.” Mark couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s just that I've never met someone who’s in love with horror just as much as you are.”

“Hey, horror is amazin’! Don’t you go around questionin’ it.” Jack was thankful for the darkness that  
surrounded them, because he was sure that if it been any lighter outside Mark could easily see his cheeks turning a deep shade of pink. “Besides, it’s about more than just scaring the shit out of people. If done right, horror can have some pretty interesting stuff in it if you look hard enough.”

“Such as?”

“Well, for instance in _Dracula,_ one of the main themes is about how things aren’t always what they appear to be,” Jack explained. “When Jonathan is first introduced to Dracula, he comes off as this wealthy intellectual, but as you keep on reading Jonathan slowly starts to discover that Dracula is ultimately a blood thirsty monster.”

 _"Story of my life,"_ Jack thought bitterly to himself.

“Alright then, you got me on that one.” Mark lifted his hands in the air in defeat. He was really enjoying listening to Jack talk about his favorite books. “Now, what about this _Exorcist_ _  
_ book you're reading?” Mark asked as he flicked some ashes into the sand below them. “What’s the deeper meaning behind a girl getting possessed by the devil?”

Jack wrinkled his nose at him but still smirked to himself. “For starters, if you take the horror element out of it, the story almost acts like a religious story. I mean, you get introduced to this young priest who questions his faith due to his mother’s passing, and it’s not 'til he goes face to face with the fuckin’ devil does he begin to believe in God once more.”

Mark quirked a brow at this, and it was clear to Jack that he was much more fascinated by this idea then he wanted to let on. However, Mark simply shrugged then and went back to smoking his cigarette. Fascinated as he was about the topic, there was just something about that piece of information that didn’t settle well with him.

“That seems a little pretentious, don’t you think?"

Jack’s smirk began to falter. “What do you mean?”

“I mean... why does it have to have this existentialism crowbarred into it?” Mark tried to word himself carefully. “Like, I know it’s about demons and possessions, but it didn’t have to go into someone’s personal issues with God. It just seems pretentious to me.”

There was a pause before Jack began to speak. “N-no, I don’t think it’s pretentious at all.” It was Jack’s turn to be annoyed now. “Pretentious is when you try to make something seem more important when it’s not. The message is not trying to use symbolism to make something appear more God-like than it is. It’s really just about someone regaining their faith.” Jack was rambling, but Mark made no effort to stop him as he listened intently. “As humans, I feel like there’s always been a time where we questioned something about ourselves. Our faith, purpose, self worth, anything really. Sometimes we won’t be happy until that faith or whatever comes back to us...”

Mark’s brow’s furrowed with concern when he heard Jack’s voice began to trail off. Just like that the Irishman slowly grew quiet, like a book that had been slowly closed shut. Mark felt like a complete asshole. “Do you... question your faith often?”

“There are lots of things about myself that I still question,” Jack said in a hushed voice. “Faith, existence, how my family treats me...”

“Your family?” Mark asked, clearly confused by this. “I thought you said you got along well with them?”

“I do, and that’s exactly the problem.” Jack sighed a tossed his cigarette into the sand. “My family. I love them and they love me, they honest to God love me. It’s just, sometimes it’s hard to accept that love when you know that there’s so much wrong with you.”

Jack was once again grateful that it was dark out, because he could feel himself starting to tear up. He'd promised himself so many times that he wouldn’t get emotional anymore, but that didn’t help the the fact that those thoughts still stung. What had Jack done to deserve a family that loved him?

“Jack, are you okay?”

 _Fuck... Fuck!_ _  
_

Wiping his eyes, Jack quickly turned his gaze to the rolling waves to hide both his embarrassment as  well as the features on his face until he could get a better hold of himself. It was bad enough to cry over nightmares, but it took things to a whole other level of helplessness to get emotional in front of others.

Especially Mark of all people.

“Everythin’s fine, Mark," he finally said. “I’m just-Oh God! SHIT!”

Jack quickly cut himself off, a loud yelp escaping from his lips when a cold, foamy wave quickly rushed towards the men, creating a small splash that left the hem of their pants soaked and their shoes filled with icy seawater. Both cursed bitterly and hurried away as far as they could from the upcoming tide and onto a dry spot of the beach where the waves couldn’t reach them. Flopping down onto the sand, Mark continued to curse under his breath as he yanked his shoes off to shake out whatever excess water was trapped inside.

“Goddamn it, really?! Fuck I hate the ocean sometimes!” Mark cried out angrily, cursing a few more times before looking over at Jack, who was currently grimacing from the sudden cold that had hit his feet once he too kicked his shoes off. “You okay there, Jack?”

“Just what the hell do you think?” Jack sighed before sitting down beside Mark, yanking his now soaking wet socks off his feet. Mark couldn’t help but smile in amusement as he watched the younger man beside him: his hands wrung out the excess water trapped within his socks, his legs folded Indian-style beneath him in an attempt to keep his feet warm, his once sad face now puffed out into a little frustrated pout.

“And just what the hell are you smilin’ about?”

_"You look cute when you're angry."_

“Nothing.” Mark said it as casually as he could. Fuck. Why was he thinking shit like that? Stop it,  
it’s not funny, it’s just wrong. “It’s just the situation, that’s all.”

Jack scoffed and gave his socks a last good shake before tossing them on the sand beside him. “Yeah, it’s all fun and games 'til someone gets fuckin’ frostbite.” Jack heard a soft chuckle coming out of Mark, but knew better than to take the bait. Jack instead decided to gaze over at the dark abyss of the sea’s horizon. It was at that moment when he noticed just how rough the waves were. They were big, wild and loud like an oncoming storm, and Jack loved every moment of it. Yet, with the booming sound of each crashing wave came a realization that made Jack rather uncomfortable: Mark was here and it was loud.

Maybe it was too loud.

“Does it bother you?” Jack asked quietly, his eyes still glued to the endless abyss in front of them. Fuck, he shouldn’t be asking Mark this. Why was he asking Mark this?

“Does what?”

“The waves.” Jack could feel Mark’s gaze upon him and it made him feel guilty. “I... fuck, I know it’s a dumb question, you’ve walked on the beach before. It’s just... they're rougher than I thought they’d be tonight and-”

“You want to know if the sound bothers me.”

Jack froze then, a twinge of guilt started to tug at his heart when he heard those words. He shouldn’t be asking Mark that, it was too personal. Way too fucking personal. Jack would have slapped himself if he could. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring it up,” he said weakly.

“You don’t have to apologize to me. There’s nothing to be sorry about.” This was very much true and besides, it was Mark who had spilled the beans about his shell-shock back at the Moon Rabbit. He couldn't and didn’t blame Jack for being curious. “Fireworks and things dropping out of nowhere are what usually set me off. It sucks, I know, but it’s something that I’m still struggling to control.” He sighed. “It’s a nightmare to deal with sometimes, but as far as waves go, they don’t bother me. In fact... I find them to be kind of soothing.”

A bittersweet feeling washed over Jack at this news. It was painful to know this was something that Mark had to struggle with, though it was a relief learning that there were some things which could relax him, like the ocean. This was something that Jack could heavily relate to.

“Yeah, I think it’s soothing too. I really love the ocean. Whenever I feel stressed or tired I usually come here to feel better, and most of the time it works.” Jack sighed in content and buried his feet in the sand. It was cold but strangely soothing, as it protected his feet from the breeze around him.

Mark felt himself start to relax again as he listened to Jack speak. There was something hopelessly endearing about the way the Irishman spoke, even about the ocean. Mark hadn't meant to mislead Jack, but honestly he'd always found the ocean to be terrifying. The sound of waves lapping against the shore was one thing, but there was just something unsettling about swimming around in an open abyss all the while knowing that some creature bigger and stronger than you was lurking beneath your feet. Still, if Jack could find comfort in it then that was just fine with him; who knows, maybe in time Mark could find comfort  in it too.

“You must love it here during the summer time, then.”

A chuckle escaped Jack’s lips. “I do. I mean, who wouldn’t, right?” He let a hand run through his hair.

“Though it’s even better during the winter.”

“Winter, huh?”

“What can I say? I’m a Winter Baby.”

“Winter Baby?”

“I was born in February, so that makes me a Winter Baby. At least, that’s what Ma use to say.” Jack reached for his damp socks once more to see if they were dry enough to slip back on. “What about you?”

“I was born in June so...Summer Baby. That being said, I don’t see how the beach could possibly be better during winter time.”

“Have you ever been to the beach when it’s snowin’ out? It’s beautiful as fuck.”

Mark responded with a shake of his head and a soft hum. “I’m going to be here for a while, so I’ll take your word on it 'til winter rolls in.”

There was silence once again and both men turned their attention back toward the sea. For Mark this was a slightly difficult effort, since it was hard for him to keep his attention on anything else beside Jack. Mark had never been the type to talk about his shell-shock, and yet here he was talking about it with this local that he’d only known for a few days. A local that, from what Mark understood, loved books and the ocean just as much as he loved space, and who had his own set of issues which Mark could relate to, but at the same time, couldn’t.

“You don’t have to answer me if you don’t want to,” Mark finally spoke. “But are there certain limits you have when it comes to being touched?” Mark scratched the back of his head nervously when Jack gave him a peculiar look. “Like, I know you don’t like it when people touch you, but is there anything else I need to know to make you comfortable? I just don’t wanna repeat what happened at the coffee house.”

Jack didn’t answer right away. It was odd to be asked about something like this and he didn’t know whether or not to feel happy about the concern or defensive about it. Jack didn’t like talking about his personal issues with anyone; still, if Mark were able to open up to him about his problems, then Jack should reciprocate. “I, well... It’s really just that... I don’t like having people put their hands on me. It’s something that I’m still strugglin’ with, but if you bump into me by accident, please don’t beat yourself up if I get startled. You can’t avoid bumpin’ into things and I don’t want to make you feel bad because of my issues.” Jack put a hand on his elbow and gave it a gentle squeeze, an automatic protective gesture. “I probably should have explained this to you earlier instead of runnin' off like that.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Mark reassured him. “What’s done is done. I know what it’s like to struggle with something you have no control over. Accident or not, I’ll try to be more careful from now on, I promise.” Mark knew that actions spoke louder than words, but he felt it was worth letting Jack know what he was promising. All he cared about was making Jack feel comfortable, so hopefully his words could convince him even a little.

It seemed to have worked, since his words were enough for a small smile to curve up on Jack’s lips. “Thanks, Mark, it’s nice to hear that.”

“No need to thank me. I’m just trying to be a decent human being.”

“Well, take my thanks anyway. It’s not like you can give it back,” Jack said, that hint of a smile still in place. “And don’t worry, you're pretty decent for the most part, at least so far. Just keep up the good work and I’ll do the same, okay?”

Mark scoffed. “You sound like Arin.”

“Who’s Arin?”

_Shit._

“Nothing, it’s nothing. Just an old friend from the war.”

Jack blinked at this. This was the first time Mark had ever talked about someone he knew from the war. “I see. Well, he must be a charmer if you're comparin’ him to me.” Jack giggled softly at his joke, unaware of Mark’s ever growing uneasiness. “Do you keep in touch with him at all?”

“Drop it.”

Mark’s voice came out harsher than he wanted it to. It was enough to make Jack’s smile to falter a bit. If Jack were seventeen again, he would have snapped back at Mark with a sarcastic remark, or asked him what his problem was. Jack wasn’t seventeen anymore, though, and now hearing someone raise his voice to him only filled him with anxiety.

“H-Hey, I mean no disrespect,” Jack said in a hushed tone. “I was just-”

“I said drop it!” Mark snapped in frustration, glaring daggers at the Irishman. He hated it when he lost his temper; it was one of the many things that he still struggled with after getting back from the war. Even though he couldn't seem to stop himself, he could also never stop the guilt he felt immediately after. The way Jack was looking at him just then, with wide, blue eyes filled with hurt and shock, made the guilt hurt worse than ever before. Whatever anger Mark held in his eyes quickly drained away as his features began to grow soft. To have Jack of all people look at him like that made him feel more disgusted with himself than he'd ever felt in his life.

“I-I’m sorry,” Jack said in a hushed voice. “I shouldn’t have asked. Please don’t be mad at me.”

Marks shoulder’s dropped, his stomach felt sick with worry when he witnessed Jack starting to literally curl up into himself. “Jack, n-no wait! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to snap like that!” Mark said quickly. “I’m not mad at you, I’m not! You didn’t do anything wrong-”

“Will you stop fuckin’ sayin’ that?!” Jack nearly cried. He didn’t mean to yell, he certainly didn’t want to, he was just such a mess. “Mark, you're literally the first person in a fuckin’ long time that I’ve been willing to spend time with! Hell, the only reason you saw me out at the pub with Caroline is because my sister talked me into it before she left.” Jack looked down and ran his fingers through his hair. God, he sounded so pathetic. “It’s really hard for me to trust people, Mark, so I keep my distance, but I’m fuckin' tired of it. I’m tired of not trusting people and I’m tired of being alone, but how the fuck can I even keep something as simple as a solid friendship going when I can’t even keep my fuckin’ mouth shut?!”

Jack could feel it again, he was starting to tear up. He didn’t want to feel vulnerable, especially not in front of Mark. It was the worst feeling in the world and it made him feel sick, but the second he heard his voice began to shake, Jack knew that it was beyond any of his control.

“You told me you didn’t want to talk about the war, and I want to respect that.” Jack was trying his hardest to keep his voice steady. “It’s not my place to talk about it and I’m sorry... I-I’m sorry...”

Mark thought for sure that his heart had split in two the instant he saw Jack begin to curl into a ball upon the sand. His legs were hugged tightly against his chest as he wept quietly against his knees. Mark honestly didn’t know what to do. He wanted to say something but no words came out of his mouth. He wanted to pull Jack into a tight hug and comfort him, but he knew that that would just make things worse. He wanted to make Jack feel better but he just didn’t know how.

Mark closed his eyes and scrunched his eyebrows tightly. He liked his privacy. There was a lot he was hiding from Jack, and he knew that Jack was hiding a lot from him. He liked to keep to himself, and he had his reasons for being that way, but he couldn’t do this with Jack. He wanted Jack to feel safe with him and if that was ever going to happen, he needed to be open with him.

“Jack…”

Jack sniffed and rubbed his eyes that now seemed to sparkle in the moonlight from the tears. “W-what?”

“Do you remember when you asked me why I moved to Ireland in the first place?”

“Yeah. You said you wanted peace and quiet.”

Mark shifted where he sat, but he made it a mission maintain eye contact with Jack. “Yeah, and that’s true, but... It’s only part of the reason I came here.”

Mark took his cigarette and stuck it deep in the sand, letting out one last puff of smoke that quickly evaporated into the wind. “The reason I don’t talk about the war is because it nearly destroyed me. When I came back home I nearly lost my damn mind because I didn’t know how to function anymore. I... I nearly tried to hang myself.”

Jack mentally winced at this confession. He remembered when he and Mark first met on the beach and how the American brought up his attempt at ending his life. Jack was no soldier, but he knew what it was like to feel trapped, to feel like there was only one way out. It was odd, really; most people usually find common ground thanks to a favorite movie or a similar hobby, anything that didn’t involve suicide and depression.

“Yeah, I left because I wanted peace, but I also came here to get my shit together,” Mark continued. “War is war. You're going to see a lot of fucked up shit no matter how you slice or dice it. For the most part, I was able to handle it. Well, at least I thought I did because, you know, being shell-shocked and everything.” Mark needed to be calm. There was no turning back now, that much was certain.  

Jack bit his lip. This man was being open with him, more open than he thought anyone would ever be with him. Jack didn’t know if this was Mark’s intention or not, but Jack was craving more knowledge about him. If Mark was willing to open the door for him, the least Jack could do is take a step inside. “What happened to you?”

Mark didn’t answer right away, but instead asked Jack for a fresh cigarette, a request easily fulfilled. After lighting the stick of tobacco and taking in a long drag, Mark finally felt comfortable to continue his story. For Mark it wasn’t the loss of his father that drove him to the brink of madness, nor was it so much the effects of war, though that did play a huge role in it. No, the beginning of his troubles started in the beginning when he first arrived in those shores of South Vietnam, that was when he first became friends with Arin and the night everything went to shit.


	10. Reflections Of My Life -Track 01

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh my sorrows, sad tomorrows, 
> 
> Take me back to my own home.
> 
> -The Marmalade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holly shit, FINALLY! Ugh I rewrote this thing so many times and I still hate how it came out. Keep in mind, this chapter involves some heavy subjects. things like war, death, guilt, and bloodshed all wrapped into one. It was hard to write, not because the heaviness of the subject, but rather writing it in a way that is both believable and tactful. So please, I'm so sorry for keeping you guys waiting, I hope you enjoy. Thanks <3
> 
> Say hello to me on tumblr at http://jerseydoodle.tumblr.com/

"I remember the first day I arrived in Vietnam. It was about four years ago  and I just turned eighteen only weeks before I first set foot on the sandy shores of Da Nang. The first thing that popped into my mind when I got there wasn't how beautiful the jungles and beaches were, or how different they felt from the hometown I was used to, but how intense the heat was. It was hotter and more humid than anything I was used to back in Cincinnati. In all my time there, I never did get used to that heat. The second thing that popped into my mind was how alive everything felt. From the rich blue waves that crashed against the pale, soft curve of the beach, to the thick, twisted, emerald jungle that was always growing, everything felt like it was constantly moving and morphing beneath my feet. It was alive, it was pulsing like a heartbeat, and I knew that it was anything but safe. But I wasn’t afraid. I was ready, I was pumped, I was going to spit in the face of death and make everyone at home proud, I was gonna make myself proud, and by doing so I was gonna make dad proud as well.

It was there on that same sandy beach where I first was introduced to my comrades and, subsequently, introduced to Arin Hanson. He was native from Florida who was halfway through his second tour by the time I arrived.  He was the kinda guy who was quick to put you under his wing, which is pretty much what he did with us, myself included. I can’t remember how our first conversation started, but it was later that evening, and Arin started talking about 'Star Trek'. Now, when you're in boot camp, they train you to give up the 'civilian' mentality and replace it with a military state of mind. I know this was absolutely necessary what with war being what it is and shit. So I put everything involving my civilian life in the back of my mind. Music, shows, hobbies, all of that needed to be tucked away, it could get you killed. Yet, to hear someone talk about something that was so familiar to me like 'Star Trek' just put a smile on my face that lasted for at least a week. It was from a shared love of one silly television show that helped the two of us bond not just as comrades of war, but as good, close friends.”

“Arin was like the brother I'd always wished for," Mark admitted softly, digging his fingers deep into the cool sand. "I mean, I wouldn’t go so far as to compare him to Tom. That would be like comparing lemons with peaches, but you wanna know what the sad thing is? If I had to choose between them... I would have preferred Arin over my actual brother. I know that sounds like a really shitty thing to admit, but can you really blame me? The last thing I remember about my real brother is a fucking good bye note. Some brother, right? At least Arin wasn’t a coward; no matter how crazy shit got, he never ran away. He always had my back... we had each others' backs. We looked out for eachother, everyone looked out of eachother. It was just the way things were for us."

“For the most part, it was this one little piece of humanity that I needed to cling to once I got my first taste of Vietnam. I never noticed the importance of this until much later into the war. Soon after I arrived I went on my first mission. The one think that sticks out to me that day was Arin playing 'Suzie Q' on that old record player that was given to him by his parents. Shit, he loved the hell out of that song, but i'd digress. We weren’t halfway to the village when my bunkmate Barry had his foot ensnared in a side-closing panji trap, his boot filling with warm blood as the rusty nail impaled him through the thick leather and into the sole of his foot. I was one of the few close enough to help him out from the trap. I... I can still  remember the sound he made when it happened... it was like listening to the cries of a wounded animal."

_“Shit, it hurts like a bitch!” Barry cried as he leaned himself against Mark. “Fuck!”_

_“You're lucky that was just your foot,” Arin pointed out as he began to undo the injured man’s boot. He was no medic, but he knew a thing or two when it came to basic first aid. “Look, just let me patch you up. You think you can walk?”_

_“I-I don’t know. Does it look bad?”_

_That was the last thing Barry said before Mark heard something wiz by them, the second it stopped Mark felt a liquid begin to run down his arm. It was warm and had a familiar metallic odor to it. Before Mark had anytime to react he could feel Barry grow heavy against his body, fresh blood seeping from a dark open wound on the back of Barry’s neck. For Mark, it felt like time had slowed down drastically as he watched Barry slump down onto the thick, muddy ground of the jungle. Mark was only able to snap his gaze away from the blood on his arm once Arin yanked him down onto the ground for cover._

Mark paused for a moment, his brows furrowing from the memory. He took the opportunity take in another drag from his cigarette.

“I couldn’t sleep that night; I wasn’t sure how I was even able to talk that night. I was holding onto Barry when it happened... one minute he was alive and the next, he was gone, just like that. It was my first exposure to bloodshed. I knew I shouldn’t be frightened, I should have expected it, I was trained to expect it, but... I was frightened nonetheless.

That could have been me after all. Barry was leaning against me, his face was just inches from mine, yet Barry had been the victim. I'd lived through a scenario where my chances of survival had been fifty-fifty and it made my stomach turn. I was surprised that I didn’t throw up from that fact alone. But I tried to be strong, and I had Arin there to try and cheer me up with his own ‘brand’ of wisdom.”

_“Try not to think about it too much Mark, it’s gonna be okay,” Arin explained to him once they were safe back at the camp site. “I know what you saw was rough, but trust me, it will get easier. There’s only so many times you can get spooked from seeing someone getting shot.”_

_“But...fuck, he was...I could have-”_

_“You couldn’t have done shit,” Arin said, tone matter-of-fact. “Don’t go getting all guilty on me, okay? There was nothing you could have done, fuck there was nothing anyone could have done. All you can do now is to just be glad that you're not the one flying home early.”_

“For the longest time, I didn't know what to make of this advice. It wasnt c exacly what I would call the most comforting of advice, but it was advice I was still willing to take. Because I knew deep down there was a lot of truth to it-that, and it was the only bit of comfort that anyone was willing to give me. I tried to relax and Arin helped me by talking about 'Star Trek' again and whatever and before I knew it, I started to feel just a little bit better.”

Though I didn't want to believe him, Arin was right. Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months, and eventually I did get used to the situation. I grew used to the explosions, grew used to shooting at men, I even grew used to seeing the people around me die. When Barry get shot, the shock of seeing someone die right in front of me left me so shaken that I couldn’t sleep that night; a few months later, I would simply give a fallen comrade a final goodbye and a solute before tucking in for a peaceful night's rest. They were going home after all, I rationalized, so it was only the polite thing to do.”

Mark studied the features on Jack’s face, looking for any signs of discomfort from what he just said. Frowning slightly when the Irishman put a hand on his other forearm to squeeze it gently.

“I’m sorry if I’m disturbing you.”

“No, you're not disturbing me,” Jack reassured him. “Please, don’t stop for my sake.”

“But if you're feeling...I mean you don’t think-”

“What I think isn’t important at the moment.” Jack said plainly. “This is your story Mark, these are your experiences and you can be as raw with it as you see fit. I will never judge you for that, never.”

Mark couldn’t help but feel relieved, Jack really was something. He thanked Jack with a weak smile, before leaning in to inhale from the cigarette in his hand. Sighing out the cloud of nicotine from this lungs he pressed on.

“In hindsight, I felt...I felt terrified of just how indifferent I became.” Mark admitted. “Very little seemed to affect me when I was in that jungle. I knew that was to be expected;  Arin was right when he said I would acclimate to whatever shit war could throw at me. Yet, it was this indifference that scared me the most. I'm terrified of how desensitized I became, how hopeless I felt. I was almost a shell of my former self, a hollowed out husk. I was jaded, I was numb, and my innocence was long dead and buried in a large public grave.

The war had taken a great mental toll on me. However, by some miracle I kept it together, and in a lot of ways I have Arin to thank for that. His words might have been morbid, but he had a way of shedding light even during the darkest of times. I was never the best when it came to keeping my emotions in check, so to be around someone so relaxed and filled with dry was a blessing. Despite everything that happened to us, and everything that I did and experienced, I still felt grounded when he was with him. So long as I could go back to base and hear 'Suzie Q' playing somewhere in the distance, I knew everything was gonna be okay."

Jack knew what was to come next, he could tell by the way Mark slowly but sharply exhaled from his nostrils. His chest falling ever so slightly as the air was forced out of his lungs. Yet the Irishman said nothing. He wouldn’t dare too.

“Then came that mission, that fucking, God damn mission.” Mark groaned bitterly as he gently exhaled a mist of nicotine from his nostrils. “It was supposed to be simple: go in, take out the enemy, and leave. In. Out. That’s how it should have been, that’s how it was supposed to have been...”

"We were only halfway through the trail when we were ambushed. I was on the muddy jungle floor, hidden behind the tall, lush grass in an attempt to protect myself from the open fire that surrounded us. Arin was beside me, serving as back-up as always; we always looked out for each other. He told me to cover him, since one of the newer recruits was wounded in the middle of the crossfire, and Arin needed to get him out of there as fast as possible. Despite the chaos, I did as I was told and covered for Arin as best I could. I was thankful that I was able to shelter Arin with a hail of bullets until he was able to drag the injured rookie into a safer spot, behind a nearby tree where it would provide them both some protection. Or so I thought.”

“That’s when I saw it, just in the corner of his eye. Lurking through the bushes, it had to have been just twenty feet away.At first I thought it was just a trick of the eye, but when I looked again, it was all too clear as to what it was. It was a  Charlie, a VietCong soldier, we all nicknames for them. Charlies, Gooks, Nammers, you get the picture. The Charlie was a young guy, he looked like he was my age at the time. I’d be shocked if I knew he was older then twenty. He was lean, but tall and he was brown as a nut. I couldn’t help but be at awe by him, whenever there was an attack we would always be a good distance apart from each other. We would hide in our neck of the woods and shoot like crazy and they would do the same. I’ve never seen a Charlie that close to me before, grated it wasn’t too close. We were still a good feet apart from each other but it was still close enough to where I took notice. It’s weird, my first thought of him was, ‘God, he looks so human’. When you have an enemy you’ve been fighting for so long you don’t really see them as people anymore. All you see is that there this creature that’s out to kill you and that you gotta kill them before they do. Yet, looking back, maybe had out situations been different, maybe we could have been friends. Or maybe we could have hated each other in a way where we didn’t have to kill each other. I think about this sometimes, maybe mire then I should. I know I shouldn’t but I do.”

Lifting an arm, Mark placed a hand on the left side of his neck. Rubbing gently at the spot where his collarbone was. It was a subconscious thing, because he always touched that spot whenever he recalled the memory.

“That’s when I noticed he was aiming his gun at Arin, how he didn’t notice me I have no idea. Yet he noticed Arin and he was trying to take aim. I was quicker though, I don’t wanna toot my own horn or anything, but I had the best aim out of that entire platoon, hands down. But when I aimed to shoot, something was wrong. The fucking thing wouldn’t go off, my stupid fucking gun got jammed, can you believe it?!  I kept pulling the trigger over and over again, but nothing! I started to panic, I didn’t have time to fix it. So I just got up and charged.”

_A gunshot went off and ripped into Mark’s collarbone just before he tackled the enemy soldier, who cried out in surprise from the impact of Mark’s body colliding into his. The two men stared at each other in shock for a split moment before A struggle commenced. Wounded, Mark was easily overpowered, pinning him down on the jungle floor the soldier quickly tried to reach for his riffle. Out of desperation, Mark quickly pulled out the bowie knife from his pocket and plunged the blade deep into the soldier’s throat. There was a loud, guttural noise that escaped from the soldier’s throat as the blood bubbled from his throat and flooded out of his lips. Mark couldn’t move, he was frozen, paralyzed even. All he could do is watch in horror as the shoulder wheezed and coughed out his last few globs of mucus and blood before growing completely silent on the earthy floor beneath them. After a minute, Mark finally slid the blade out of the wounded neck with a shaking hand. His whole body was trembling, his dirty, scarred hands were caked in blood, weapon in hand. His eyes were wide and unfocused as they gazed down at the crumpled body beside him._

“That… really got to me.” Mark’s hands were beginning to shake. “It wasn’t my first kill, but it was the only time he had ever taken a blade to the throat. I try not to think about it, I-I didn’t...Nammie or not, he didn’t deserve to die like that. I didn’t want him to die like that. My gun to get jammed, I was just trying to protect Arin.

Shit, I was still shaking like a leaf but I had force myself up. Everything around me just grew quiet, my collarbone was so painful that I started to see spots of white in the corner of my eye. I tried gripping it to stop the bleeding but that only made it hurt more. I felt woozy and sick, I couldn’t stand straight, at that moment I thought that was it. I thought I was going to die. Then I saw Arin running towards me, he was laughing that nervous laugh he did whenever something bad happened.”

_“God Mark, your a fucking savage!” Arin cried, there was nervousness in his voice, but he still forced himself to smile for Mark’s sake. “Just hang in there okay? I’ll get you out of here in no time.”_

“I remember the moment when the stray bullet from afar made it’s way through Arin’s eye, replacing the socket with a bloody, gaping hole that almost seemed to burst on impact from the bullet. It was so much like a pimple that had just been popped. For a split second, it looked like Arin was still smiling before gravity caused his legs to cave in. Just like that, Arin Hanson. My brother, was dead before his body hit the ground. The last thing I remembered was hearing a loud scream, I had no fucking clue where it was coming from but it was there and before I knew it...e-everything around me went dark…”

“Mark?”

The American blinked when he heard Jack’s voice call out to him. There was concern and worry in the other man’s eyes, Mark didn’t know why until he felt an unfamiliar wetness on his cheeks. No, he shouldn’t be crying, not in front of Jack like this. Still Mark couldn’t help himself, he never was the best when it came to his emotions. The veteran whipped his eyes and sniffed.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what got over me.”

Jack couldn’t help but lean closer. He laced his hands together in a small grip as he spoke. “It’s okay, there’s nothing to be sorry about. In fact, I-I’m the one who should be saying sorry. I’m sorry you had to witness that. That you had to go through that. I can’t even imagine what that must have been like.”

“It’s...It’s fine, I mean...it’s fine.” Mark sighs, it really was not much he could say to Jack’s words.

“I don’t remember what happened after that, but when I woke up I knew that I wasn’t at the base back at the beach. At first I thought I was captured, but when I got a second look I realized I was at a hospital. I don’t know how I got there, but I did. I was afraid to move, my body hurt all over, my arm was in a sling, my collarbone felt like it was about to burst. When the nurse walked in she was looking at me like I grew a second head. I could tell that she wasn’t expecting me to wake up. Hell she was even giddy about it.”

_“You're a very lucky man sir, you know that?” She said in a sweet, sympathetic voice. “It’s a miracle that you're even alive, you lost so much blood when they brought you here.”_

“The first night there was the worst, being trapped in a dingy hospital in the middle of God knows where and surrounded by wounded and maimed soldiers isn’t exactly what I would call a day at the beach. My body was so numbed on morphing and I felt absolutely drained. The morphine made me tired but mind was racing. The only thing that held me together both physically and mentally was the Morphine. It was relaxing, soothing even and I knew that if he didn’t have it in me would scream. It’s just...I was alive,I couldn’t even process that in my brain, but I was very much alive. Yet, this didn't bring me any joy, if anything it was a bittersweet feeling at best. Yeah I was alive but everyone else was gone and let me tell you, that shit wasn’t fair.

I was alive, I didn’t think I was capable of truly dying at that point. There was a part of me who was mad as hell, I felt bitter, angry and downright vicious. I wanted revenge, it wanted to break free and kill every fucking communist gook it could get my hands hands. I didn’t care what happened to me, I just wanted out. It’s weird though, because at the same time, there was another part of me who just wanted to go home.”

“It was two years ago when I finally got back to Cincinnati, I turned twenty years old around that time, but I felt so much older than that, I still do. The first thing that came to mind was how quiet everything was. There was no yelling or screaming between us and the enemy, no gunshots, no explosions, no helicopters. Hell there weren’t any sounds from the jungle anymore.

It was quiet, just quiet. At first I thought that I would be happy to be back home, everything was so peaceful back home you know? I mean who wouldn’t want that? And yet to have that peacefulness for the first time in years made me horribly nervous, sick even. It was just quiet, too quiet for my taste. Everything just had a jarring feeling to it, I was so use to the muggy heat  the smell of mud and Napalm that my senses went into overdrive. I felt like an outsider in his own country, my own hometown. I swear I would have had a heart attack right then and there  if I didn’t have my mom and friends greeting me with hugs and kisses. Honestly I was grateful, I was grateful for the hugs and kisses that my mom gave me. I was grateful for laughs and the affectionate pats on the back that I got from my friends. For a moment I thought that everything would be okay, that once I got back to the swing of things everything would be back to normal.”

“But it didn’t…” Jack’s voice was quiet. He was still trying to take in everything that Mark had unloaded onto him. The Irishman had never been to war, yet he knew the feeling of wanting to move on from something traumatic very well. Mark said nothing, but gave Jack half a smirk, his own subtle way of saying yes.

“Like I said before, I was a wreck when I came home. I couldn’t sleep at night, I got depressed, I would get angry at my friends for no reason.” He paused to toss his cigarette into the cool sand, the red hot ash slowly flickering out like a firefly. “It’s kinda the reason I don’t drink anymore. Turns out I’m an angry drunk. I just wish I hadn’t learned that the hard way.”

“Jesus…” Jack muttered under his breath. “But wait, you were at the Black Rabbit weren't you?”

Mark only chuckled. “Well I did say I was dragged there. Besides I only had water. Well, water and some dinner.”

“Hm, fair enough.” Jack laced his gloved fingers together. He wasn’t sure why he was being so hesitant to ask Mark more questions, since he as was clearly okay with opening up to him. Eventually, Jack managed to swallow his anxiety and pressed on. “So, uh... did you and your friends get into a drunken fight or somethin’?”

Mark didn’t answer right away. “I had just gotten back. They wanted to celebrate my return as if it was some big fucking deal. I was feeling like shit about everything that had happened and I got drunk, and then I got into some argument with one of my buddie-I don’t even fucking remember what it was about-and… I-I strangled him.” Mark slipped his fingers deeper into the cool sand as he felt himself grow uneasy at the memory. “I attacked one of my friends. I didn’t have the stomach to talk to him for a month after that. Would you?”

Jack bit his lip, but surprisingly there was no unease in his tone as he answered. “Wow, I’m sorry to hear that, Mark. But hey, we all do dumb shit when we're drunk, right?” He flashed Mark a weak smile, hoping to lighten the mood. “I mean, I could go on for days about all the fights that i’ve gotten into when I was bein’ a stupid drunk.”

Mark only offered him a sad smirk in return. “Be that as it may, it’s still not much of an excuse. Drunk or sober, I can’t go around hurting people like some degenerate. Especially when it’s someone close to me. Besides, at least you’re Irish, so you already have an excuse to go crazy when it comes to booze.”

Jack rolled his eyes, but took no offense, chuckling instead to reassure Mark. “You're lucky that us Irish people have a thick skin. Though to be fair, you're not completely wrong.” Jack let out a soft sigh. “In all do seriousness though, Mark, I’m really sorry about everythin’. Adjusting to normal life after living through somethin’ awful is never an easy thing to do. Every little action you take or word you say becomes a struggle, you know?”

Mark raised a brow at this, but he didn’t question it. “Yeah, I do. You know what though? I was still able to get a job at this planetarium near my town. Granted they had me cleaning floors, but it was something to do to pass the time and help me feel close to normal again."

“So, then... what finally made you decide to come to Ireland?”

“Well, remember how I said that I couldn’t sleep at night?” Mark asked. “Well one night I managed to actually drift off without any problems but…” His voice began to waver and Jack’s features drooped with worry.  

“Mark wait, you don’t have to force yourself to tell me.”

“No it’s fine, I’m fine. Really.” Mark took a breath, regretting that he'd tossed his cigarette away so soon. “I had a nightmare that night, a real big shit show of a nightmare. Barry was there and he was bleeding and... God it felt so real. It felt like I was there, like I was reliving everything it was... Oh God, when I woke up my room was a wreck and my mom was there. I-I don’t know why she was there, but she was and she was on the floor and she was in pain and...” Mark started to feel sick. “It was my fault... she was trying to wake me up.” Mark gripped his hair tighter, guilt and sadness overwhelming him. Jack could feel his heart sink when he heard the other man’s voice began to crack. “S-She’s my mom and I fucking hurt her?! I-I mean why?!”

“H-Hey, don’t be so hard on yourself,” Jack said softly, his eyes filling with concern. “You were having a nightmare, you weren’t-”

“Who cares if I was having a nightmare!? That’s not a fucking excuse!” Mark snapped, his voice dripping with anger and desperation, tears prickling within his eyes. The sudden burst of emotions was enough to cause Jack to flinch. “Shit, everyone is always making excuses for me! It’s okay, you had a nightmare! It’s okay, you're a vet! It’s okay, there’s nothing you could have done to save anyone! It’s okay, you were fucking drunk!”

There was silence again. Mark’s features began to soften when he saw the way Jack’s eyebrows furrowed into an expression of hurt and sadness. He wasn’t sure if it was an expression made out of fear or sympathy. Perhaps it was both. Mark wasn’t sure, all he knew was that it made him feel bad to see. Whatever was going on in his head, Mark knew better than to take it out on others. Jack didn’t deserve that, no one did, especially not when he was only trying to help. Quickly Mark rubbed his eyes and tried to control himself. Now was not the time to be getting hysterical.  

“O-oh no, Jack, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to snap like that! Please, I’m…” he sighed in defeat, drained and mentally exhausted. “I’m just tired… tired of feeling angry, tired of feeling like shit, tired of being a burden to everyone... but most of all I’m just tired of being tired.” Mark said nothing after that; there was nothing else for him to say. He leaned down, resting on his back against the cool sand. He felt more comfortable this way, when he was able to avoid the pitiful looks of the people around him and could instead could get lost in the starry night sky.

“That’s when I knew I couldn’t stay at home anymore. I needed to get away, far away. So I quit my job at the planetarium, packed up, and hopped on the first plane to Ireland. I just hope that it wasn’t all for naught.”

Jack didn’t know what to do. He wanted to comfort Mark so badly and say something in the hopes of lifting his spirits, or at the very least distracting him from the pain he was feeling. There was even a part of him that wanted to reach out and pull the veteran into a tight hug while telling him that everything was okay, but his nerves told Jack to stay put. He was still terrified to embrace anyone and Jack knew if he try to hug the American it would throw him into a panic attack. Instead, with much hesitation, he raised a shaky hand and gently placed it on Mark’s shoulder. It felt awkward and almost overwhelming to be touching a stranger like this, but if it could provide the other man with any form of comfort, Jack could handle it. Plus it was enough for Mark to turn his gaze up to the blue eyes staring down at him.

“You don’t have to say sorry to me. Anyone in your shoes would feel frustrated and tired. It’s hard to recover from a traumatic experience, but you can’t blame yourself for everything like you've been doing.” Jack’s words were soft and careful; he needed them to be when it came to situations like this. He supposed that now was the time to put that basic psychology knowledge he had to the test. “I’m not saying you shouldn’t take responsibility for mistakes you've made, but there are always going to be things that are gonna be out of your control. The more you dwell on them, the more it’s going to hurt you.”

Mark said nothing as he allowed Jack’s words sink in. He could feel the soft gloved fingers giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze. He didn’t want to look Jack in the eye, he'd look anywhere but those drops of liquid sapphire he called eyes. They were filled with so much hurt and sympathy that it made Mark feel weak. He didn’t deserve sympathy, he didn’t deserve anything, that much was certain to him. He wanted to ignore Jack, turn his gaze away and stare off into the nothingness of space that hovered above them, but he hadn’t the willpower.

“I mean, it’s something that I struggle with too,” Jack continued to speak, knowing that his words wouldn’t make Mark think any differently. Yet he also knew that it was still important for them to be said nonetheless. If they were just enough to make Mark think, then that alone was an accomplishment. “I’m not a soldier, but I know what it’s like to feel guilt. To feel frustrated and hurt and… It just…” He was starting to stumble as an uneasy feeling began to stir deep inside him. “It sucks.”

Jack bit his lip gently when realization slapped him across the face. Removing his hand from Mark’s shoulder, he curled himself into a ball and stared out into the ocean once more. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Mark, because he knew the more he talked, the more it would only make things worse. Selfish, Jack thought, how could he be so selfish? Here was Mark, sitting here and opening up to him, pouring his heart out to a stranger he’d only known for less than a week, and all Jack could do was bring up his own issues. Besides, who was Jack to try and talk to Mark about his problems when he couldn’t even take care of his own?

It was selfish. It was hypocritical. He wasn’t capable of helping anyone.

“Jack?”

Jack blinked and turned his gaze back at Mark, who had perched himself against his elbows in the sand and was looking at Jack in concern. He was worried, of course he was. Mark was not a perfect man, he was short tempered, bitter, and easily annoyed by most things, but his heart always bled out for others. It always had; even before the war, Mark had always been the type to give whatever he could of himself to others. The human being he'd once been was still there, deep inside him, only it was just tucked away, protected by a broken exterior that Mark wished didn’t exist.

“Oh no, Mark, I’m fine. I just... wish I was more helpful.”

Mark’s features began to falter. “You are helpful though. I mean shit, I should be thanking you right now. You took the time to listen to me. That... that really means a lot to me. Jack, look, I know you have your own struggles. I know you don’t like talking about them, and I understand that, but if you ever feel sad or upset or... shit, if you ever wanna talk about anything.” Mark struggled to get his words out. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that if you ever wanna open up about anything, just let me know okay? I know I’m not perfect, but if you ever want someone to talk to or someone just listen, I can at least do that much.”

Jack was surprised by this, yet couldn’t help but feel a sense of comfort from Mark’s words. He knew it was dangerous to feel that way, given how part of his brain kept telling him that Mark was technically still a stranger, but even that didn’t chase off the sense of security he felt around him. Mark had just opened up to him in the most personal way imaginable about his past, his pain, his struggles, everything. To Jack, Mark was such a strong man, stronger that he’d ever been, or ever wished to be. Why would he possibly waste his time on some recovering drug addict loser with a tainted body? Jack wasn’t sure. Maybe it all was a ruse. Maybe everything he said was all a lie and Mark was secretly planning on beating and fucking the shit out of him once he'd gained his trust. No, that was not going to happen. Jack knew better than to put himself in a situation like that. Mark would never do something like that to him. He was not a monster... right?

Jack simply nodded and made a soft noise, before turning his gaze back at the ocean. It was so dark and vast, it almost frightened him how just miles away there was not a stick of light to be seen. Just pure, cold, watery darkness. The sound of the waves softly rang in his ears as they splashed against the sands of the shore.

“It’s really fuckin’ cold tonight,” Jack muttered softly, his gaze still glued to the sea in front of him.

Mark didn’t answer right away. Instead he leaned back and turned his attention up to the night sky. That’s when he noticed how it wasn’t as starry as he'd remembered it to be. A thick shroud of clouds had partially cloaked the sky above them, leaving Mark staring at the dark emptiness that was space.

  
“Yeah, I guess it is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to my beta: Ocelot_l  
> I love you to pieces <3


	11. Have You Ever Seen The Rain?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone told me long ago,
> 
> There's a calm before the storm.
> 
> \- Creedence Clearwater Revival

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, finally this is done. Now I can go back to finish the next chapter for Angel From my Nightmare, yay.
> 
> UPDATE: Now it's officially beta'd and edited by my good friend Ocelot_l, thanks!

 Mark’s mind slowly came back to the edge of awareness when he felt something something tiny and wet fall against his cheek. _"How odd,"_ he thought to himself, but soon paid it no attention as his mind was still teetering between consciousness and sleep. It wasn’t 'til he felt the sensation again, this time tapping him against his lower eyelid, that Mark finally forced himself to open his eyes and was greeted by a dark grey sky and a field of endless sand. Mark found himself curled on his side upon the cool damp ground which was being peppered gently by small drops of rain. The morning sky was veiled by a thick, solid shroud of dark grey clouds that showed no sign of releasing the sun from its gloomy prison. The air around him was frigidly cold and bore the familiar scent of the sea. The waves were restless as ever, and the sounds they made when they crashed against the shoreline echoed around him, leaving foamy outlines spotted with seaweed before rolling back into the sea.

Mark wanted to be embarrassed, and in truth he was to some degree. He remembered last night, and staring up into the sky, and resting his eyes for a brief second, and now all of a sudden it was the next morning. He'd slept on the beach all night. Who the fuck just passes out on the beach like that? Mark knew he hadn’t been sleeping well these past several days, ever since the incident at the coffee house, but this was no excuse. The worst part of it all was that Mark still felt tired. He wanted nothing more then to close his eyes and drift back to sleep, but it was drizzling, and it was quite cold outside, yet he felt oddly warm. Something solid pressed against Mark’s chest like a small house cat curling up against its master for comfort, something that was tucked nice and snug under the protection of Mark’s arm which hung loosely over it, keeping whatever it was warm. It wasn’t until Mark closed his eyes for a second time that his mind did a second take and the realization smashed into him like a brick to the mouth.

Jack, still trapped in a deep sleep, was curled up peacefully on the ground beside Mark. His back was what pressed gently against Mark's chest, and it was around his waist that Mark's arm rested, as though he were trying to protect him from the cold that surrounded them. Mark’s face drained of color as his eyes began to widen with horror.

Slowly and carefully he lifted his arm off Jack’s waist and rolled over onto his back, inching himself away from the Irishman’s body as best he could. Had Mark really fallen asleep like this? Why the fuck would he allow himself to fall asleep like this?! He wasn’t sure whether to feel relieved that Jack hadn’t left his ass on the beach, or horrified at the fact that he had been holding him so close like that. Sweat began to form against Mark’s brow as nerves began to take hold, his heart practically doing jumping jacks within the confines of his chest. He could only thank God that he'd woken up before Jack had, since he couldn’t even begin to fathom what reaction Jack would have had to this situation.

Mark had one job, to give Jack his personal space, and that included keeping his hands to himself. In just one night, Mark had violated that agreement. He hadn’t mean too, he had no memory of rolling over and hugging the other man in a loose, casual embrace, and yet he'd still committed such a sin. Mark was at a loss as to what to do now. He didn’t want to wake Jack up, but he knew that just leaving him here on the beach to freeze was out of the question. Before he could puzzle out a solution to his dilemma, his heart stopped when he heard the other man beginning to shift beside him. 

_"Oh no..."_

\------

Jack made a soft noise when the cold started to become unbearable. Scrunching his brows together, he forced his heavy eyelids to open and whimpered when he realized where he was. It wasn’t the first time he'd woken up like this. He was used to passing out on the beach like he had during those long summer nights where he'd had nothing to worry about... with the exception of getting yelled at by his parents for being out so late. Life had been so simple back then, so carefree and filled with wonders. Maybe if he went back to sleep he could imagine that it was summer again; that he was still a teenager getting high on weed on the beach with a bunch of people he'd met back at Malcolm’s.

Sighing, Jack rolled onto his back to stare up at the gloom that floated above him, flinging his arm to the side as he did so. In doing this, he nearly jumped out of his skin when his arm made contact with Mark’s face, causing both men to let out a startled cry. Jack's was actually more of a startled squeak and he scampered as far away as he could from Mark, who quickly sat up and rubbed the part of his face where the other man had unknowingly smacked him.

Mark was here! How the fuck could he have forgotten about Mark? Wait, Mark was still here?  Had he been there the whole night?!

“Holy shit, Mark, are you okay?!” Jack asked quickly. “I-I’m sorry! I didn’t see you there and... oh shit, I’m so sorry!”

“No-no, it’s okay, I’m fine!” Mark insisted, giving his head a good shake. Jack of course was still concerned.

“Are you sure?”

Mark got up on his feet with a grunt and brushed the sand off his disheveled body. “Of course I’m sure, trust me.”

The two men started at each other in silence. It wasn’t clear which one of them felt the most out of place in the situation, since both seemed embarrassed, lost, and confused to be in the other’s presence. What was clear, though, was that for some unknown

reason, the two had passed out on the beach together and neither of them knew what to say to the other. Mark could only look down and rub the back of his neck. Jack hugged his coat tight around his thin frame to protect himself from the cold.

 

Mark began to laugh then, all of a sudden, which did nothing but inflame Jack’s sense of annoyance. 

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing. It’s just, I didn’t think I would ever pass out on the beach like that. Heh, I guess I should have seen it coming though. I haven’t slept well these past few days. I guess it all finally caught up to me.”

Jack couldn’t help but crack a hint of a smile; it was nice to see that at least one of them had woken up in good spirits. Eventually he too forced himself up on his feet and stretched. 

“Heh, I wish I had a reason like you do. I guess I’m just used to falling asleep on the beach sometimes.”

“Well in that case, I’ll remind myself to bring sleeping bags the next time we take a walk.”

Jack chuckled at this. “I kinda like that idea. Good God, what time is it anyway?”

Lifting his hand up, Mark looked down to examine the black banded watch that clung to his wrist. His brow quirked up in surprise when it revealed to him what time it was.

“Oh shit, it’s five actually.”

“Five?!” Jack cried out. “Are you fuckin’ serious?”

“Well technically it’s four fifty-eight, but I don’t think a two minute difference really counts.”

“Holy shit…”

Jack didn’t know what was worse, the embarrassment or the stupidity of it all. He couldn’t ignore the fact that what he'd done was beyond dangerous. Not only had he let his guard down and fallen asleep next to a stranger, but apparently the two of them had been

like that for the entire night. All night long Jack had lain vulnerable and defenseless on damp sand... God knows what could have happened. He could have been mugged, killed, or worse, and yet there he'd been, letting his guard down.

But he was okay. Mark hadn’t hurt him, he hadn’t even touched him. Jack was okay. He was insanely lucky, but still he was okay. 

Of course he would be okay; after all, was it even appropriate to call Mark a stranger anymore?

“Jack? Jack are you okay?”

Jack snapped out of his thoughts, tucking his hands back into his pockets.

“I’m fine, I was just lost in thought for a moment.” Even gloved up and tucked inside his pockets, his hands still felt cold. “Mark, about last night... I…”

“Hey it’s okay, you don’t have to say anything... like I said, I’m just happy you listened.” Mark frowned a bit, an awkward, guilty feeling starting to bubble inside him. “I’m just... I’m sorry I had to unload all that shit onto you.”

Jack bit his lip gently. “No, don’t be sorry... listen to me, how do you feel now?”

“I feel... honestly, I don’t know. A little better I guess. I’ve never talked about this in the open with anyone. So, I guess it... felt better. Not ‘healed’ better, but still slightly better than before.”

“Then that’s all what matters, Mark. As long as your feel better, even if it’s just a little bit better, that’s all what matters.”

There was something comforting in Jack’s words that Mark wasn’t quite used too, but he welcomed it nonetheless. It was a weird feeling. He felt like he could tell Jack anything, and he wasn’t sure if that knowledge should make him feel scared or relieved.

“Thanks, Jack. You really know how to make a guy feel sane.”

“Don’t mention it. Like I said, I almost majored in psychology at one point, so I guess you could call me somethin’ of an amateur shrink,” Jack said with a soft giggle. “But yeah! Heh, I think maybe we should head back before it really starts to downpour.”

“Yeah, right. That, and I really need to get back before Malcolm finds out and kills me.”

“Hehe, don’t worry, he’s an understanding guy. I don’t think he’ll get mad at you. Besides, it’s Saturday.”

“Saturday or not, it’s still the principle of the thing,” Mark explained, “I can’t present myself as lazy, especially since the guy is putting a roof over my head.”

Jack couldn’t help but smile in amusement by this. “What time do you need to get back?”

“Seven, but I usually like to get down to the lobby by six.”

“Then you have more then enough time.” He gave Mark a playful smile. “Though I don’t work on the weekends, so hooray for me!”

Mark chuckled at this. “Oh, I’m jealous.”

“And you should be.”

Mark was about to reply, but stopped when something in the sand caught his attention. It rested just beside where Jack had laid, sticking out of the sand like a small piece of wood that had been washed off by the sea. Probably something that had fallen out of Jack’s pocket. Being a gentlemen by default, Mark didn’t think twice about leaning down and picking it up.

“Hey, Jack, I think you dropped something.”

Jack turned to Mark, his face dropping slightly when he saw the vet holding his small pocket knife in one hand. It was at that moment he realized that his pockets were all empty with the exception of his cigarette box and matches. Jack quickly concluded that the hand-held weapon must have fallen out of his pocket when he'd been asleep and good lord why?! How could he not have noticed until that moment that he was unarmed? How could he allow himself to be so careless? Jack knew he was lucky that Mark was a relatively decent person or else he would have most likely have been hurt. Why the fuck was he putting himself in these risky situations?

“This is yours, right?” Mark repeated, now a bit uncertain. “I mean, I don’t usually carry around pocket knives with me, so…”

“U-uh yeah! Sure that’s... thanks!” Jack said quickly as he took the small weapon from Mark's hand and tucked it gingerly into his pocket. Jack could feel his face turning pink with embarrassment and guilt at the sheer sight of it. Last night he'd brought it with him just in case Mark had tried to hurt him, but now it just served as a cold reminder of just how much he didn’t trust the other man. Hell, he was still struggling with whether or not to trust him completely, even though Mark had only been kind to him. He knew that he wanted too. Jack wanted to trust someone again, he wanted to know what it was like to be open and carefree with another person again. The whole point of moving back to this town was to start new and to not let the incidents from his past control him anymore. If this was going to be the first step in doing so, then so be it.

“Hey, Jack?”

_Oh shit, I'm making him worry again. I'm so pathetic._

“Y-yeah?”

“Like, I know I said that I wanted to be back at Malcolm’s by six, but…oh what's the best way of saying this without coming off as weird?" Mark thought, hoping he didn't seem too awkward right then, "but if your place isn’t too far from here, maybe I can give you some company on the way over there?”

Jack quirked a brow at this; now it was his turn to be curious.

“Are you askin’ if you could walk me home?”

Mark paused. It was a very brief pause, no less than a second, but Jack still noticed it. “Yes, I guess I am. I mean, of course, only if you're okay with that.”

Jack thought about it. It had been a while since anyone had asked to walk him home. It was a welcoming, yet odd feeling because Jack really liked the idea of someone accompanying him on his way home. However, his thoughts kept drifting to the consequences of this action, and they were all negative. 

_"Mark will know where you live. Mark is going to stalk you. Mark is going to break into your apartment."_

However, these intrusive thoughts didn’t actually make Jack all that worried. After all, Mark was giving him the option to turn this offer down, and besides, if Mark really had wanted to hurt him, couldn't he have just done so during the night?

Jack wasn’t sure. All he knew was that these past few hours had been nothing but an endless stream of risks he'd taken, so he didn’t see any reason to stop now.

Jack made his decision and nodded. “I think I would like that a lot. Thank you, Mark. I hope it’s not too much trouble for you.”

“What? Nah, of course not.”

Jack merely shrugged but smiled nonetheless, and started to walk alongside Mark in silence. It was fortunate for them that the light drizzle came to a brief halt, allowing them to walk in relative peace for a while, though it eventually returned by the time they'd entered the small, sleepy town. 

It was a quiet morning, as the residents were still either asleep or just waking up as the occasional early bird is known to do. The cluster of shops were closed, the lights that shone through the windows were few and scattered, and the streets for the most part were empty, with the exception of the one bearing the two men making their way back from the beach.

A wave of relief began to wash over Jack when his building came into view. The thoughts of a hot shower, a steaming pot of coffee, and a warm bed with a book beside him began to swirl through his mind. God, he couldn’t wait, he felt gross and cold, and he just couldn’t wait to make himself clean and comfortable again. Yet, at the same time, he knew that he and Mark would once again part ways 'til next time. Another time, another day.

“So, this is where you live, huh?” Make said as he examined the decent sized building made of oak wood and dark red brick. “Looks cozy.”

“Heh thanks, it’s a decent place. Kinda small, but it’s all I wanted and more.” Jack took a step onto the stoop, but didn’t go inside. Instead he turned his gaze to Mark, his soft blue eyes making contact with the vet’s darker ones. “T-thanks again for walkin’ me back, even though you didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to, though,” Mark insisted. “Usually when I’m out with people I always like to make sure they get home in one piece, especially when the weather is hellish like it is now. It gives me this weird peace of mind. I don’t know."

Jack couldn’t help but find this endearing. “Well, aren't you the gentlemen, huh?”

“Guilty as charged.”

Jack chuckled. “What about you, Mark? You think you can find your way to Malcolm’s from here?”

“Don’t worry, I have a good idea where I am. Malcolm’s isn’t too far from here anyway.” Mark smiled faintly. “The obvious aside, I had fun last night. Hopefully I’ll see you again someday this week.”

“Heh I’ll keep in touch.”

The two men said their goodbyes before Jack made his way inside the building while Mark continued his journey back to the hostel in town. Jack greeted his landlord, who was up early as always at the front desk, before taking the elevator up to his floor. The first thing he did after entering his flat was hurry into the shower to wash himself slowly, enjoying every second that the beads of hot water rolled across his body as they washed away all the cold and sand from outside. After thirty minutes in the shower, he dried off and slipped into a pair of loose pajamas, turned on a pot of coffee, and made himself a small breakfast of toast and a fried egg.

Once Jack finished his breakfast, he headed into his room with a mug of hot coffee in hand. He'd decided that he wanted to spend the rest of the morning in bed, and had no intentions of venture outside again that day, especially not now that the rain was beating against his window hard and fast like a typhoon. Turning the light on, he placed the coffee down onto the small nightstand and slipped under the covers.

Just as Jack opened his book though, his thoughts began to wander towards Mark. It really was raining hard, and he couldn’t help but worry about the American’s whereabouts. Jack hoped that Mark had made it back to Malcom’s safely; after all the time that had passed he was relatively certain that Mark was already busy at work inside the hostel, but still. Should he call the place up and see? Maybe. Jack wasn’t sure quite yet.

Jack wondered what it would have been like if he'd invited Mark up for a cup of coffee in his flat. Would he have said yes? Jack doubted it, since he knew that Mark was very by the books when it came to working at the hostel. Still, if he had said yes, would the two of them still manage to hold a conversation 'til the storm outside passed? Maybe they both would have been too tired to talk. Perhaps they would have just shared a cup of coffee in silence. Maybe they could have laid on the couch together and watch that stupid 'Riordans' show for a laugh. Maybe they would have dozed off together like they had on the beach, but it would be different this time. They wouldn’t be cold, they could be warm on the couch... maybe they could've even shared a bed together. 

When was the last time Jack had been able to curl up next to someone and feel safety and comfort from it? How long had it been since he'd been able to let someone hold him without being thrown into a panic attack? He wasn’t sure, and even still, Jack knew it was just a dumb thing to think about.

Mark was a fighter, a soldier. He'd been through hell and back, and he deserved happiness. Mark deserved a nice, sweet, beautiful girl to love him and to be by his side. Jack doubted that Mark would be the type to lie in bed with another man, and even if he was, Jack knew he didn’t deserve Mark. Jack was sleazy, dirty, and he had more problems then a math book. Mark has his own demons to deal with and the Irishman didn’t want to trouble him with his own. It was this thought alone that caused Jack to mentally tell himself to stop thinking about it and go back to reading where he'd left off in The Exorcist. 


	12. You Really Got Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh yeah, you really got me now,
> 
> You got me so I can't sleep at night.
> 
> -The Kinks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy sorry for the wait, I'm not dead yet. It's just that real like can be crazy, that and the Holidays.
> 
> But anywho, thanks for being so patient, I hope you enjoy regardless! 
> 
> Now if you excuse me, I g2g write up the next chap for AFMN.

Mark was successful in making it back to the hostel before lightning began to erupt from the now black skies above him. He just barely made it inside before the heavy rain really began to make its quick and heavy descent upon the earth. A wave of pleasure hit his body hard and fast when he found himself inside the shelter. The air was warm against his body and had the faint, smoky smell of breakfast from the kitchen; the fire was roaring within the stone fireplace in the now empty lobby. It was a quiet, dreary morning, and Mark knew that the residents of the hostel were most likely still asleep within their comfortable rooms. In all honesty, Mark wouldn’t mind crashing in his room right then, or at the very least washing away all the rain and beach from his body with the help of a nice long shower. That was to say, if Malcolm would allow it. Mark was sure he would, though... wouldn’t he?

“Where the bloody hell have you been, lad?!”

Mark's shoulders arched up as he quickly turned his attention to the front desk where he was greeted with the familiar sight of Malcolm, perched in his usual spot behind the desk, his newspaper laid down on the table before him. Mark should have known that Malcolm would be awake just in time to catch his arrival.

“I haven’t seen you since last night. Did you really just get back?” Malcolm asked loudly, his voice sounding more shocked then angry as his eyes wandered up and down the disheveled figure that was Mark.

His dark hair was damp and sticking out everywhere around his skull, his clothes were soaked and clinging to his thick frame, the thick stench of the sea surrounding him like a dark aura, and his eyes still bore the dark rings of someone who hadn’t slept in at least a day or two. Mark was well aware of his appearance and wouldn’t have been surprised if Malcolm were angry with him over it. Slumping his shoulders, he slid his hair back with one hand and forced his mouth open in a vain attempt to explain his all-night absence.

“I... I was just at the beach…”

“The beach?!” Malcolm crooked an eyebrow at the younger man in an almost accusatory way. “You mean to tell me you were there all night?”

“... yeah.”

A loud boom of thunder erupted from the storm outside, causing Mark to leap a foot into the air. After pressing a hand to his quickly beating heart in an ill-fated attempt to save himself from a panic attack or another flashback. Taking deep and steady breathes, he looked back to Malcolm, who merely waved his hand at Mark in a dismissive motion.  

“Eh, never mind lad, I’ll ask you about it later. Just get yourself up there and wash up. You look like you just crawled out of the sixth circle of hell! And don’t forget to come back down once you're done.”

The American was still shaking, but he nodded neither less. “Yes, of course, si-Malcolm!”

Mark hurried as best he could up the stairs to his room, but still made an effort to be as quiet as possible so not to disturb those who were still sleeping. As he was walking to his room, he noticed that the hallway was strangely more quiet then he was used to it being. It didn’t take long for Mark to figure out the reason why this was so; usually by this time there would be music playing softly from Felix’s room. The Swede appeared to be sleeping in this morning and, given the amount of drink he'd consumed the night before, Mark wouldn’t have been surprised if Felix didn’t emerge from his room until much later in the day. In a way Mark was thankful for the peace and quiet, but he made a mental note to check in on Felix if he didn’t hear any music coming from his room in another six or so hours.

Unlocking his door, Mark entered his room and quickly stripped off his wet things, took a quick, but soothing and much needed hot shower, and slipped on a pair a fresh clean clothes before brushing his teeth. The clothes he wore were rather plain at best, just a grey-striped, long sleeve shirt with a pair of jeans and some brown wool socks. Mark had no plans to head outside anytime soon, especially not since the sound of the rain hitting his glass window reminded him of the ferocity of a hurricane, so it seemed natural for him to dress down on this particular morning. It also helped that Malcolm never applied any dress code to his employees so long as they at the least wore a shirt and some pants.

Making his way back down to the lobby, Mark grabbed hold of some of the cleaning supplies from the closet and proceeded to wipe down the table closest to the fireplace. He was grateful for the warmth that radiated from the fire beside him; hell, Mark was grateful for just about everything that the hostel had to offer. In some way, he was happy that it was storming outside, as he had a soft spot for dreary weather. Mark remembered one particular day when he had been very, very young. 

Before the war, before his father’s untimely death, before his family had completely broken apart, they had all sat around and watched 'The Honeymooners'. It had been storming hard that night, but that didn’t matter. They were all together, on the couch, happy and content, sipping on cups of hot chocolate that Mark's mom made for them as they watched Ralph Kramden’s crazy shenanigans.

It was at that moment Mark started to think about Jack and what he was currently up to. If Mark had to guess, he would say that Jack was probably curled up in bed reading a book. But as to which book currently held his interest, that Mark wasn't sure about. Was he reading The Exorcist? Maybe he was rereading Dracula this time around. The weather would certainly set the perfect mood for that story. Mark thought about what it would look like to see Jack curled up under the covers with a book; given the man’s round blue eyes, soft brown hair, and the way his clothes always seemed to be a bit too big for his lean but noticeably toned frame, Jack would probably look really adorable, like a small cat curled up in a ball on a nice soft bed with an open book. So cute to look at, so cute to hold...

Mark knew that he needed to stop thinking about such impossible things.

“There you are, Mark!”

Mark looked up to see Minx looking down at him with a plate filled with bacon and fried eggs that she got from the kitchen. It was clear to Mark that she must have just woken up given the messy status of her brown and purple hair along with the extremely wrinkled condition of her clothes, which consisted of baggy pink polka dotted pants and a matching buttoned-up collared shirt made of wool. Smiling, she look a seat on one of the thick worn out couches closest to Mark and the fireplace. 

“So what time did you get back?”

“Minx, you know I’m not suppose to talk to you while I’m working.”

“Oh stop it, you think Malcolm's gonna care?” she asked casually before taking a bite from a strip of cooked bacon. “Besides, after what happened last night, I’m kinda curious to know what happened between you and that Jack fellow.”

Mark could feel his annoyance start to build up inside him. “Minx…”

“What? You made such a fuss about it last night and you expect me to not be curious?”

Mark let out a loud sigh. He knew he had to tell her something. While he didn’t want to go into detail for fear that it would just cause more questioning and speculation, Mark felt that he could at least give her the basics.

“I got back around midnight,” he lied. “It was good... I mean it was nice to talk to him again. We just walked on the beach, talked a lot, and then it started raining. I walked him home and that was it.” Mark didn’t feel like he had to tell Minx about sleeping on the beach all night. Maybe later, when he wasn’t working. If he said anymore now, it would just lead to more questions. “He wants to keep in touch, so I’m happy about that.”

“That’s good!” Minx said, happiness radiating from her voice. “So when do you think you you’ll see him again, eh?”

There was a slight pause. “I... uh, we didn’t really have a set date.” Mark mentally cursed at himself for forgetting this siginificant detail. “I mean, we were both so hell bent on getting home because of the rain that I didn’t even think... shit…”

“Hey, now, don’t you go beating yourself up over it,” Minx said as she began to cut into her fried egg with her fork. She popped a piece into her mouth, chewing quickly. “You’ll see each other again, since this town’s pretty small to begin with. Besides, you know here he lives, so just walk over there and give him a knock when he’s not busy.”

Mark’s brows began to furrow at this, as though he was becoming lost in thought. “I could do that, maybe...” he finally said. “I mean... it just... it just doesn’t seem like a smart move, especially with him.”

“Why, does he hate visitors or something?”

“No, it’s not that, it’s just that I don’t wanna feel like i’m imposing on him, you know? Jack’s really sweet, but he’s very private. I don’t know how he would react if I just came knocking on his door out of nowhere like that. I think I’m better off waiting till we bump into each other again. That seems to happen a lot with us anyway.”

Minx only smiled softly at this, much to Mark's surprise. “Heh, well that’s very gentlemanly of you, Mark. If I was in your position, I would just kick the door down and say hello.”

“And that’s why you could never be a gentleman, unlike yours truly.”

She laughed at this. “That and other reasons of course, such as the whole penis thing.”

Mark groaned softly. “Damn it, Minx…”

She merely laughed again. “Calm down, it was just a joke. You're almost as bad as my father when it comes to jokes.” Mark wrinkled his nose at her, but she only responded with a smirk. “You know, it’s funny how you do kinda remind me of my dad.”

“Really? And why, dare I ask, is that?”

“Eh just your mannerisms and all that jazz. He’s a very by the book kind of guy, always has been. I think it was something he picked up after fighting the Krauts in the second World War.”

Mark couldn’t help but be taken aback by this. He looked up slowly into Minx's eyes, unsure that he had heard her properly. “I-I didn’t know your dad was in the service.”

“Oh yes,” she said in a very matter of fact tone. “He was a pilot, you see. Fought in the blitz when London was getting bombarded. I have a picture of him up in my room. I’ll show you once I’m done with breakfast if you're interested.”

“That’s amazing!” Mark said quickly, perhaps a little more enthusiastically than he wanted too. “I mean wow, your dad sounds amazing! My dad fought in the war too, actually. He wasn’t a pilot though, but he did fight in France toward the end.”

“Oh, you don’t say? Ha! Well isn’t that something? Maybe our daddies crossed paths at some point. We should ask them about that next time we see them, eh?”

The smile Mark had formed began to drop slowly. “I... my dad passed away when I was in high school.”

Minx grew silent. “Oh no, Mark. I’m so sorry to hear that.”

“No, no, it’s fine. I mean, it was a while ago anyway, I’m not bothered by it anymore.” That was only partially true; he still missed his father greatly. God knows that Mark could have used his old man’s words of wisdom when he came back from the war, but life isn’t fair like that. “It is what it is, you know?”

“Perhaps,” Minx finally said. “Even so, I think maybe we should talk about something else. At least for now. Unless, of course, you’d like to talk about it, then I’m all ears.”

Mark paused to think for a moment. “Hmm, no I think I’m good. I mean, not that I’m bothered or anything, it’s just that I really don’t have much to say about it. I had a dad and he died, it was rough, but I moved on.” This too was only partially true. “And that’s all I have to say about that.”

Minx nodded. “Fair enough Mark. If you ever need someone to talk to, though, you know where to find me.” Mark couldn’t help but feel touched by this. This young woman who he had met only a short while ago really did consider him a friend. “In the meantime, why don’t we talk more about your little thing you have going on with Jack.”

“Minx, for the last time there’s nothing going on between us.” Mark said, his annoyance starting to resurface once more. “We're just friends, plain and simple.”

“Hey now, I didn’t say anything like that,” Minx said in a calm, teasing tone. “I just figured since you talk about him like you do, your relationship with him sounds really sincere.”

Mark started to feel flustered. Was he really that obvious with his emotions? Probably, he always had been, even before the war.

He hated it.

“What can I say? Before I got friendly with you and Felix, Jack was the first guy I started getting along with since I got here. Hell, he’s the first guy I think I’ve ever gotten along with in a while. He’s... he’s really sweet, and easy to talk too, you know? Like he’s the kinda person you would always feel comfortable being around,” Mark admitted, perhaps a bit more openly than he was used to. “He likes books and the beach, and I think he used to play the drums, but I have yet to see him play.”

Mark grew quiet when he realized that he was rambling, rambling about Jack no doubt. It was a rather silly thing to do and it didn’t help his case of proving that he didn’t see the Irishman of anything more than a friend. Minx could only smile at this. “Sounds like a pretty cool cat in my opinion.”

“Yeah, he is.”

“Heh, you know I think it would be great if you invited him over here,” she suggested, a sparkle in her eyes. “We could have a great time together, the four of us! We could talk and drink and listen to music-hell, I’m pretty sure that Felix has a pair of drums lying around in his room somewhere! At least, I wouldn’t be surprised if he did.”

Mark quirked a brow at this. He wasn't quite sure how to respond to this overly enthusiastic suggestion, but before he was able to form a response, his attention was drawn to the sound of heavy footsteps slowly making their way towards the living area. It didn't take long for the owner of those footsteps to appear, standing in nothing but a pair of blue striped boxers and a torn up Harley-Davidson t-shirt. It was Felix himself, whose lanky frame seemed to resemble a thin piece of string dangling in the wind. His hair was a mess, messier then Mark was used to seeing it, his eyes were heavy and ringed with dark circles, and his skin was white and clammy, resembling that of a pale frog. Mark knew why this was so, and for a moment felt a bit of sympathy for his dear friend next door.

Minx, however, only laughed. “Hey sunshine,” she cooed. “How you feeling?”

Felix let out a low, bellowing groan from the back of his throat. It was the only response he could muster before plopping onto the worn out couch by the fire. Turning his tired, bloodshot eyes over to Mark, the Swede forced himself to speak. “Water…” he said in a low, broken voice. “Could you get me some water, man?”

“Don’t worry Felix, I got you covered. Just try not to die on me, okay?” Mark said before hurrying over to the kitchen. He filled a large, cold glass with ice water and returned back to the living room as carefully as he could so as not to spill even one single drop. “Can you hold it?” Mark wondered as he carefully handed the glass over to Felix, who simply gave him the faintest hint of a smirk.

“I got this…” he said in the same weak voice, carefully managing to balance the glass in both hands. “Feel like shit... but, I ain't dead yet, man... thanks.”

Minx let out a soft chuckle as she watched Felix bring the glass to his lips, slowly but steadily allowing the cold liquid to slip down his throat. Mark said nothing but was relieved to see that Felix was alive and functioning.

“Shit, Felix, I’m surprised you were even able to get out of bed.”

Once he'd finished swallowing down at least half of the water from the tall glass, Felix finally spoke. “I hate sleeping in you know? Makes me feel like a bum. Besides... I should be good after a few mugs of water.”

“You don’t need any hangover medicine?” Mark asked with a hint of concern in his voice, but Felix merely waved his hand at him.

“Naw! I don’t need any of that. The only drugs I take are weed and LSD, and I like to keep it that way. Anything else be damned...” Felix concluded this with another steady gulp of water from the glass. “Ah, so... what are you cats up to?”

Minx only shrugged. “Not much. Mark was just telling me about what he was up to last night with Jack.”

“Oh shit, that’s right!” Felix said, his voice raising slightly. “I almost forgot all about that shit. How did it go?”

“It was good,” Make answered as he knelt back down beside the cleaning supplies, turning his attention to the small table next to the lounge chair where Felix was resting. “We reconciled so I’m really happy about that.”

“Ha, I’m glad to hear it! So what else did you guys do?”

“Not much. We just talked and walked around on the beach for a while. I know it sounds boring, but it was nice. I really enjoyed it and I think he did too.”

For the most part.

“That’s cool. I’m glad to hear that you guys got your shit together. Who knows, maybe next time you see him you should bring his ass over here. I really wanna be sober when I say hello to him the next time around.”

“That’s exactly what I said!” Minx said suddenly, snapping her fingers to get the hungover Swede’s attention. “And get this: apparently Jack-a-Boy knows he was around a drum set, too.”

“Oh shit, really?” Though still very weak, Mark could sense the excitement in Felix’s voice as it so desperately tried to fight its way through its owner’s weakened body. “That’s great! Mark, you know where he lives?”

“I-I did walk him home, but-”

“Then it’s settled!” Even hungover, Felix still had the energy to cut Mark off. “Once I sober the fuck up, we’ll go over to his place and invite him here! Maybe we can grab some food with him too! It will be a gas!”

“Whoa, whoa, guys hold the phone for a second okay?!” Now it was Mark’s turn to get aggravated. “Look, we can hang out with Jack, but for fuck’s sake not today. I’m fucking exhausted and so is he I bet. I mean I literally just walked him home this morning, so after work I just wanna-”

“Wait a minute, you walked him home this morning?” Minx asked, her left eyebrow quirking upward in both confusion and suspicion. “I thought you said you got home last night, yes?”

Mark began to turn pale.

SHIT!

Minx grinned. “Oh my God, you spent the whole night on the beach with him, didn’t you? Why didn't you tell me that!?”

Mark began to feel flustered. “I-I didn’t! You don’t honestly think we dozed off and spent the whole night freezing our asses off on the beach, do you?”

“Well did you?”

“Of course not!”

“Hey man, it’s all goooood,” Felix interrupted. “I mean, I’ve passed out on the beach before with my girlfriend many times. Granted, we were both drunk and naked, but it was the summertime, you know?” Mark began to feel his face turn a bright shade of red from embarrassment and anger, but Felix didn’t seem to notice. “I doubt you guys were doing anything in the nude what with this Irish chill, but if you did that’s pretty awesome!”

“Nothing. Happened!” Mark sneered through clenched teeth. “I already told you, I don’t swing that way and neither does he! So end this conversation right now or so help me-”

“Mark, lad, are you in here?”

Startled by the familiar booming voice, the three youths jumped before looking up to see Malcolm walking into the room. Though his expression showed no trace of anger or malicious intent, Mark still felt himself begin to sweat nervously at the sight of his aging boss. Quickly, Mark straightened his posture and stiffened his shoulders,  a habit that had stuck with him after the war.

“Y-yes sir?!”

Oh God, Mark knew he shouldn’t have talked to Minx, he shouldn’t have allowed himself to get distracted like he had. He should have focused on getting his shift done; now Malcolm was surely going to cut off his head.

“Jack-a-boy’s on the phone for you,” Malcolm said with his usual welcoming smile. Mark’s eye’s widened at the revelation. “Said he wanted to give ya a call and see what yer up too. I thought I’d give you five minutes to talk, but if you wanna wait till your shift’s over-”

“No! I mean, it’s fine!” Mark said quickly, ignoring the smirks and exchanged looks between Felix and Minx. “I-I’d love to see what he wants! P-please it won’t be long, I promise!”

“Alright then, if you say so!” Malcolm led Mark back to the front desk where the telephone was perched. “But no longer than five minutes, alright? I still need help getting that kitchen cleaned out.”

“Yes, sir, of course! It won’t take long I promise.” Once alone, Mark took a deep breath and tried to calm the butterflies which had started fluttering inside his stomach. “H-Hello?!”

“Hey…” Upon hearing that familiar soft voice, all the stress and shock from earlier slowly began to slide away from Mark’s body. “I’m sorry to bother you. Is this a bad time?”

“O-oh no, of course not,” Mark said softly, his body eventually calming down from its previous anxious state. “What’s up? Is everything okay with you?”

“Y-yeah, everything's fine. I just wanted to see if you made it back in one piece. Heh, I guess I should have done that sooner, but the storm's getting worse and…” Jack chuckled softly. “I think I get what you mean about the whole ‘peace of mind’ thing.”

Mark couldn’t help but smile. “Hehe, hey that’s fine, I get that. But yeah, I made it home fine before the worst happened, so it’s all good.” Mark ran a hand through his dark hair as he spoke. “So, uh, what are you up to at the moment?”

“Oh nothing interesting. Just relaxing in bed and reading-you know, the usual. It’s too vicious outside so I’m just gonna treat myself to some bed and tea. I also have a cake mix in the pantry so I might treat myself to that later, because heh, God do I love cake!” Mark smiled a bit and shared a chuckle with the Irishman on the other line. "What about you?”

“Oh not much,” Mark replied with a shrug. “Once i’m done with my shift I’m just gonna hang around here. I have Minx and Felix driving me crazy so I can’t say it’s a dull moment with them, but no worries.” Mark paused for a brief moment. “I... they really want to meet you.”

“H-hehe, really?”

"Yeah, they won’t stop bothering me about it. Though I guess I only have myself to blame because I can’t stop talking about how awesome you are.”

There was another chuckle from the other end of the phone. “Thanks, though I can’t imagine why you would say that. I mean, let’s be honest, there’s really nothing all that awesome about me.”

“Pff! Oh shut up, you’re great and you know it.”

There was a pause and Mark found himself gripping the phone a little bit tighter. “Thanks, Mark," Jack eventually answered. "I think I’d like to meet them too. I’m not sure when I’ll be free again for a drink, but I think this weekend should work.” Another quick pause. “Would it be okay if I invited Caroline?”

“Oh sure! You can invite whoever you want. I like Caroline and I know they will too.”

“Heh thanks, Mark.”

“Don’t mention it. Really it’s nothing.” There it was again, that weird fuzzy feeling that began to tickle him deep within his belly. “Well, I think I should probably get going before Malcolm gets impatient with me and what not.”

“O-Oh yeah. I’m sorry that I called you at such a weird time. I should have waited 'til your shift was over.”

“Hey don’t apologise, I’m happy you called. It’s... it’s nice to hear from you again.”

Another brief pause. “Thanks. It’s nice to hear from you too.”

Mark smiled. “Well, I’ll talk to you later Jack. Take care.”

“W-Wait!”

Startled, Mark quickly pressed the phone to his ear once more.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“I... are you free tomorrow?!” The words came out quick, almost frantic. Jack must have realized this because he then began to speak in a much slower tone. “I mean, tomorrow's Sunday so I’ll be free all day. Maybe you’d like to come over my place and have some tea?”

Mark was taken off guard by this, but slowly he nodded. “Sure, I’d love to see you tomorrow. H-how does one o’clock sound?”

“That sounds good, I’ll be ready by then.” Another pause. “Thanks Mark, I’ll see you tomorrow! See ya then!”

“You too Jack, take care!”

Mark hung the phone up and sighed. It wasn’t a tired sigh, nor one born from exhaustion or stress, but a satisfied sigh. He hadn't been expecting Jack to call him today let alone to invite him over for tea, yet he welcomed the situation wholly. Now Mark was invited over to Jack’s house for tea... shit what should he wear? Should he bring anything? Maybe a dessert, but wait, Jack said he was making a cake. Perhaps a bottle of wine then? Mark didn’t drink but he knew that Jack did. Was there a liquor store in this town? Did Jack even like wine? He wasn’t sure.

“So, what’s the lad up to?” wondered Malcolm, who was once again sitting at the front desk, though he was so caught up in his morning paper that he didn’t bother to look up when Mark returned.

“He just... wanted to see how I was doing. We were out at a pub last night so he wanted to make sure I got home safely.”

“Well isn't that nice? I swear, that was the first time I’ve heard his voice in years. It would be nice to see the lad again for old time’s sake. Whatever you two are up to, it must be somethin’ good for him to actually call here again, so good job on that.” The hostel owner folded his newspaper to continue reading the next page. “Alright lad, back to cleanin’ with yeh! And no chit chattin’ 'til yer shift is over.”

“Yes Malcolm, thank you!”

Mark quickly turned on his heels and headed to the lounge to pick up his cleaning supplies, doing his best to ignore Minx and Felix, who stared at him in intrigue and amusement.

“So, what did Jack want?” Minx asked curiously, her lips slowly curling into a satisfied grin.

“He wanted to say hi,” Mark answered plainly.

“You said you were gonna see him at one?” Felix chimed in.

“I can’t talk, I've got work to do.”

“But Maaaark!”

“I’m not saying a word till my shift's over and that’s that!”

Mark meant it too. The second after he grabbed his cleaning supplies, he marched his way into the bar and kitchen area and didn’t emerge until his shift was over. Mark never saw Felix or Minx once his work was finished and he was honestly thankful for that. It gave him the opportunity to sneak back into his room with a large mug of ice water and a mince pie from the kitchen. Even as he laid in bed, Mark could hear The Beach Boy’s "Good Vibrations" echo softly from Felix’s record player.

Finishing his pie and drink, he slipped under the covers and allowed his mind to wander, getting lost in the sound of rain hitting the glass of his window and the soft boom of thunder far off in the distance. Mark's mind jumped between many things as he stared up at the ceiling above him. Things like Arin, his father, the war, that letter that he still needed to write to his mother… and then there was Jack. 

Mark found it so strange, but he was alone now and didn’t really care how strange his thoughts had become. Mark thought of Jack and he thought about tomorrow and how eager he was for the day to arrive. He closed his eyes and allowed his mind to drift even further away; he found he slept much better at night since arriving in Ireland. And even on those nights when Mark couldn’t fully drift off, he’d rather lose sleep with thoughts of Jack running through his brain than wake up in a cold sweat thanks to dreams of the wounded, bleeding corpse of the unknown Charlie staring down at him from the end of his bed.


	13. Stairway to Heaven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dear lady, can you hear the wind blow,
> 
> And did you know,
> 
> Your stairway lies on the whispering wind.
> 
> \- Led Zeppelin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I lied, this is defiantly the most pretentious chapter I've written for this story as of late, so I apologies for that. 
> 
> As always, sorry for the long wait. I'm a slow writer and real life is a busy one, enjoy!

A loud, clunky sound echoed through the small kitchen as Jack shoved the last freshly cleaned saucepan into the cabinet beside the oven. He’d spent the entire morning cleaning up his flat as he wanted it to be as presentable as possible for Mark’s arrival. It was only upon cleaning up his apartment that he’d actually realized just how messy of a state it had been in since its last cleanup. Which, all things considering, was quite baffling to him, considering that the last time he’d given the place a good scrubbing was when his sister had visited him merely a few days ago. Jack knew he couldn’t allow himself to live in filth and squalor like he used to, and decided that from now on, he would give the place a good cleaning once a week instead of his usual once every month. Jack was never good at cleaning, even when he was younger, but he knew this was something he need to fix.

Stepping back, Jack patted the dust from his clothes and gave the flat a long, satisfied look. The sink was clean and empty, the floor was polished, the dishes were washed and tucked away, the table was wiped down, the rug in the living room was vacuumed, and the bookshelf was stuffed and organized with all his chosen books and novels. Overall, Jack was very proud of how the flat looked, a feeling which intensified when he checked the small clock on the counter, which currently read 11:36 AM.

Jack couldn’t help but smile; he had plenty of time to take a quick shower.

With a turn of his heel, Jack made his way towards the bathroom and turned the shower on, stepping in once he was finally stripped of his old clothes from the previous evening. He knew he’d be searching for something presentable to wear once he was done, but in the meantime, he wanted simply to close his eyes and enjoy the comfort that the hot water was giving him. It was the only thing he had to calm his nerves as the reality of Mark’s visit became ever clearer in his mind.

Jack didn’t know what had possessed him to invite Mark to his home, nor did he know why he would done such a thing so suddenly. He really should have known better; people don’t go out of their way to invite others into their homes without at least spending more than a day or so with them. Perhaps he was even more lonely than he’d originally thought. Mark was the first and only guest he’d ever invited to his apartment that wasn’t a family member, something that seemed to be yet another side effect from his visit to America. Hell, that Friday had been the first time he’d ever even went out for a drink with Caroline and they’d been working at the hotel for how long now? Damn, was he really that lonely? Jack wasn’t sure.

Nevertheless, it was better to be lonely and safe than popular and in danger… or at least, that’s what he’d always told himself. Lauren might not have been wrong when she’d suggested that this line of thinking wasn’t healthy, and Jack knew this. Perhaps it was time to finally fix this habit of his. After all, he’d be lying to himself if he said that he didn’t enjoy being with Mark and Caroline. They were both very good people and they deserved happiness. Jack would probably never understand what it was that they saw in him, but he couldn’t really complain regardless.

Jack let out a small sigh and reached for the bar of soap on the small shower stand, casually scrubbing away at his body without much thought in the matter. It wasn’t until he got to scrubbing his arms that he felt something, that familiar ping of discomfort he always had whenever he focused too much attention on his arms. It hadn’t been bad yesterday, surprisingly, probably because he’d been so tired from the beach that he hadn’t given his exposed skin that much attention. On the surface, they looked relatively normal; pale, yes, and perhaps a little thinner then Jack would have liked, but normal nonetheless. Well, at least as normal as they could be given the amount of abuse that Jack had put them through in the past. He always found himself scrubbing harder at the skin there then he should whenever he showered, almost like if he scrubbed hard enough, he’d be able to scrub the marks off completely.

There were two types of marks decorating Jack’s arms, the first being the small puncture wounds that were sprinkled over lower part of his forearms. Jack hated them but they were tolerable, since they were just small enough to go fairly unnoticed unless he were to point them out. Jack was very thankful for that. It was the second type of scars that made Jack uncomfortable, though. There were only two of them, one for each wrist. They were long and red and stood out as intense, angry marks against his otherwise pale skin. They were a cold reminder of how dark dark of a place his mind was at the time.

If his mom hadn’t found him in the bathtub that day…

Sometimes he wondered if he was grateful for being saved or not.

Jack did not want to think about it anymore. The more he thought about it, the harder and more vigorous he found himself scrubbing his forearms. Only after he’d stopped did he notice the angry red marks that ranked across his pale skin, but fortunately those marks would fade once he left the room. Between the hot water from the shower and the vicious way he’d started scrubbing his hair, Jack was somehow able to think rationally once again. He was able to convince himself that no harm would come out of this visit with Mark. There was to be no wondering about in the dead of night in the cold, no freak outs, no isolation, and no mentions of suicide. It was going to be a normal get together, just the two of them, and they were going to enjoy themselves. With this in mind, Jack slowly ceased the rough treatment of his hair and his body eventually stopped itself from trembling.

Jack was going to get through this and he was going to have fun. He at least owed Mark that much.

It was at that moment Jack started to hear the faint ringing of the church bells echoing softly from outside his apartment. He was rather fond of the sound of church bells. Back when he’d been a child, he used to think that God was the one who would ring the bells at the church. It was a silly thing to think of, but he was a rather silly kid growing up, so it was excusable. However, there was no time for a visit down memory lane, since it was time to get out of the shower. For a second, as he was toweling off, Jack felt a tinge of guilt for skipping his usual afternoon visit to the Sunday service. He reassured himself by deciding he could always catch the evening service if he wasn’t too tired.

Jack felt pretty confident he could make that happen, he didn’t see how he couldn’t.

When it was half past noon, Jack had finished dressing. His outfit for the afternoon was warm and casual, consisting of a pair of dark jeans and a black turtleneck whose long sleeves went up over the knuckles of his thumbs. He always wore long sleeves nowadays, since no one needed to see those scars, after all. Jack was rather thankful that it was September; then again, just being in Ireland made wearing warm clothing all the more commonplace. Examining himself in the mirror in his bathroom, Jack thought he looked pretty decent all things considered. His hair was still just a bit damp from the shower, but it would dry shortly, and he still had those same, weird eyebrows that always made him look like he was grumpy about something, but at least he had a pair of baby blue eyes which always seemed to balance them out. Jack remembered when boys and girls alike would complement his eyes. In fact, people still did complement them, but he never gave their words much attention. His sister would always kid him about looking like a schoolboy because of his cute face. Jack remembered when people used to call him ‘cute’ as well, and for a while he’d actually believed them. Jack couldn’t see himself as desirable anymore; passable yes, but not desirable.

There was nothing cute about a piece of shit.

No, he wasn't going to think like that, not today. It was a relaxing Sunday and Mark was coming over soon and they were going to enjoy themselves. Jack had everything ready: the mugs were out, the kettle was already full with water, ready to be heated, and the teabags were nice and organized. To be on the safe side, Jack had even taken out his bag of coffee beans from the pantry just in case Mark was craving something other than tea. In fact, Jack still had more than half a cake in the fridge from yesterday if Mark wanted something sweet, but… what if Mark didn’t want cake?

What if he wanted something more savory? Like a sandwich or something? Jack would have to think of something, but he was usually pretty resourceful in situations like that.

There was a ring of the phone, and Jack quickly bolted out of his bedroom and into the kitchen.

“Hello?!” he answered quickly.

“Oh, afternoon Sean. You got a visitor waitin’ for you,” his landlord said. “Uh, you know a fellow by the name of Mark?”

Oh God, he’s here. “Yeah, he’s a friend of mine. I’ll be right down, thanks!”

Jack hung up his phone and made his way out of the apartment and down the small hallway, into the elevator. He was down by the lobby in less than a minute and there, by the counter where his landlord was sitting, was Mark himself, standing patiently with what looked like a plastic bag with a box in it. It was weird how moments ago he’d been feeling nervous, but now just seeing Mark made him feel relaxed all over again.

It didn’t take long for Mark to notice Jack.  As he stepped out of the elevator, he smiled. “Hey you.”

“Hey!” Jack found himself smiling as well. “I’m glad you could make it.”

“I’m glad you invited me, thanks!”

Jack chuckled. “No need to thank me. Come on, let me show you my nest!”

“Your nest?”

“Yep!” Jack said as he led Mark to the elevator. “That’s pretty much what it is, but don’t worry, it’s nice and clean.”

“I’m sure it is. I would never doubt your sense of tidiness.”

“Heh, well you’re definitely the first,” Jack joked as he pressed the button to the elevator, stepping inside along with Mark. Once the doors closed, Jack couldn’t help but eye at the bag in Mark’s hand.

“So, what's that you have there?” he asked in a soft, curious tone.

“Oh this? It’s nothing really.” Mark reached into the bag and pulled out a box that Jack recognized from the bakery. “Just thought I’d bring over some meat pies and cookies.”

“Oh my God, Mark, are you serious?” Jack managed to squeak out. “You didn’t have to buy that!”

“I didn’t want to visit you empty handed.” Mark insisted, “Besides, you can’t go wrong with pie and cookies, right?”

“Heh, no you really can’t. I still have that cake in the fridge I told you about if you wanna slice.”

“Hm, I think I’d like that a lot, thanks.”

Reaching Jack’s floor, both men took a step out of the elevator and Jack unlocked his apartment door. Leading Mark inside, Jack closed the door behind them and kicked off his shoes, since he always enjoyed walking around in his socks. “Well, here it is! My little nest and place of solitude.” Jack started to feel even more relaxed than he was used to feeling as the other man examined the place.

Mark couldn’t help but feel a warm, fuzzy feeling deep inside him as he looked around the apartment. It was a small but fairly cozy place, with a spotless living room and clean kitchen. The place had something of a soft, welcoming feeling that Mark couldn’t exactly put into words. He was mainly just happy that Jack had a nice place like this to come back to each night.

“It’s not much,” Jack added, “but it’s home, you know?”

“I think it’s great!” Mark finally said. “It’s a really cute place, much bigger than what I got back at Malcom’s.”

“Pff, thanks!” Jack said with a chuckle. “At least you got a bunch of people to hang out with though, that’s always fun.”

“It is at first, but it's sometimes nice to have your own space, you know?” Mark asked as he placed the bag on the small kitchen table. “I mean, between you and me, I can’t help but feel a bit jealous.”

“Well, if it makes you feel better, you’re more than welcome to visit me anytime you like!”

“Heh, thanks. I’ll be sure to return the favor once I get a place of my own.”

Jack quirked a brow at this. “You’re thinking of moving out? I thought you’d only been at the inn for a few days

“It’s not that I want to move, it’s just that I don’t really plan on living at Malcolm's forever, you know? I mean, I don’t wanna leave the town itself, because I really like it here. It’s just that it would be nice to get a place of my own in the future,” Mark admitted. “I’ve even been thinking or working at that Moon Rabbit place for some extra cash, assuming that they’re hiring right now.”

“I’m sure they are, I can’t imagine why they wouldn’t. There are always people coming and going over there anyway,” Jack said casually, though internally he was relieved to hear that Mark wasn’t planning on leaving for good. “You should go and ask them tomorrow, see if they're hiring and if not, there’s bound to be a bunch of places around here that are.”

“Yeah, I’ll go over and ask tomorrow, I’m sure Malcolm won’t mind.”  It was then Mark noticed a small smile begin to curl upon Jack’s lips then.

“Heh, not sure how Minx or Felix would react with you gettin’ up and leavin’.”

Mark only laughed at this. “Oh they’ll live without me, besides it’s not like they can’t come and visit me and vise versa. Hell chances are they're probably gonna leave for home way before I move out.”

“Heh yeah that’s definitely a possibility.” Jack answered. “Speaking of, how are they doin’ anyway?”

“Their doing good!” Mark answered, “I think they’re gonna go bar hopping later with a bunch of other people from the hostel,  I don’t know. What I do know though, is that they never shut up about you.”

“Heh, I remember you tellin’ me that yesterday.”

“Yep, and again, you have me to blame for that.” Mark chuckled. “Don’t worry, there good people, they just wanna hang out as a group sometime. I mean...maybe that’s something you would like to do someday?”

At first, Mark was always hesitant about introducing Felix and Minx to Jack, it wasn’t because of the possible, second hand embarrassment, but rather because they were both very hands on kind of people, Felix especially. The last thing Mark wanted was for Jack to have a panic attack because Felix decided to fling his arm over his shoulder. However, the more he thought about it, the idea didn’t seem entirely implausible. Mark felt that if he sat the two down and talked to them briefly about Jack’s boundaries, they would understand and all four of them could enjoy themselves for an evening. The idea wasn’t impossible, plus Mark felt he could handle the playful teasing and second hand embarrassment, so long as Jack felt comfortable.

“Heh, yeah, maybe…” Jack briefly grew quiet before he walked over to the pot by the stove. “So, how about I heat up that water, huh? Gotta get that tea nice and ready!”

Mark’s smile slowly faltered but he took a seat by the kitchen nonetheless. Perhaps a night on the town with Minx and Felix was too soon for the Irishman, and Mark understood. “Yeah, of course! You need any help with that?”

“No, I’m good. What kind of host would I be if I let you do all the work?”

“Hmm, not sure, but it would make me a really bad guest if I didn’t help in some way, don’t you think?”

“Well it’s too bad for you because I got everythin’ prepared before you got here, so ha!” Jack flashed him a playful expression.

“Oh, do you now?” Mark didn’t feel like backing down without a fight. “Well then, what about the plates for the pies and cookies?”

“We can just eat them out of the box!”

“And the cake too?”

Jack’s shoulders slowly dropped in defeat. “Alright, you can get some plates from the cabinet over there, okay?”

“Heh, now was that so hard?” Mark teased as he got up to retrieve a pair of small plates from the cabinet. Jack only snorted, finally turning the stove on to get the water going. He knew it would take a while for it to reach a boil, but that was okay, for there was no rush. He then made the suggestion for them to take the sweets and pies to the living room as they waited, which Mark was perfectly content to do, especially since the television was playing in front of them and served as excellent background noise for the otherwise quiet apartment.

“Thanks for the pies and cookies by the way,” Jack said as he took a bite out of one of the savory pastries. “Before you came, I was starting to worry that I wouldn’t have enough food around here.”

“Aw, no need to thank me, really. It’s the least I can do for you, what with you putting up with me and what not.”

“Come on, don’t word it like that, you’re like one of the most tolerable people I’ve ever met!”

Mark tilted his head mockingly, “I gotta admit, that’s pretty sad.”

“Well I’m a fairly sad person, so it’s okay.” That sounded funnier in Jack’s head. “But... anyway, um, how have you been, Mark?”

“I’ve been good,” he answered. “I slept really well the other night. Well, I mean I think I might have overslept a bit too, but it felt good.”

“Hey, that’s alright,” Jack’s voice was soft and understanding. “It happens to me too sometimes. I’m just glad to hear that you’re sleeping.” An awkward pause filled the room, but Jack was too concerned for his own good to keep quiet about it. “The thunder yesterday wasn’t too bad for you, was it?”

Mark turned to him with an unreadable expression, and Jack quickly felt a pang of regret.

“I’m sorry, I-”

“No, no, it’s okay!” Mark said quickly. “It’s fine really, I’m not angry, not in the slightest.” The sincerity in Mark’s voice was enough to make Jack calm down once more. “To answer your question, well, it wasn’t too bad. I only had one incident when the thunder woke me up from my nap and it gave me a pretty bad feeling, but it only lasted for a few minutes, thank God. After that I just passed out for the rest of the night.”

Jack bit his lip gently. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”

“It’s okay. Like I said, it only lasted for a minute.”

“I know, but still. It just sucks that you have to deal with that anyway. You don't deserve that, no one does.” Jack looked down. “I-I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up in the first place. I worry too much about other people sometimes.”

“Heh, I think it’s rather endearing actually,” Mark admitted, “ and I think you’re pretty damn endearing too, Jack.”

Jack giggled and took one last bite of his pie, finishing it. It served as a good distraction. “No, I’m not, I’m just tryin’ to be a good friend.”

“A good friend who just so happens to be endearing.”

Jack was about to say something but was cut off by the high pitch squeal of the kettle going off.

Pouting slightly, he got up from the couch and brushed himself off. “Well, call it a hunch but I think the tea is ready. You stay right there and don’t you dare move a muscle, okay?”

“But what if I have to go to the bathroom?”

“Then you can take a nice long piss in that vase over there.” Jack pointed at the small vase on the coffee table before making his way into the small kitchen.

Mark chuckled at this. “You’re evil, you know that?”

“Oh, I’m evil now, am I?” Jack teased as he poured the water into the two black colored mugs he’d laid out on the counter. “Huh, for a second I thought I was endearing.”

“Endearingly evil,” Mark quickly retorted, “I call it E.E. for short.”

Jack’s only response was a chuckle. “Well, I gotta admit, you weren’t the first to call me evil, or endearing, but I never had anyone call me both before.” Jack returned to the living room with the mugs in his hands, offering Mark one before sitting back down. Jack remained rather quiet as he sipped away at his tea, but there was an odd feeling bubbling within Mark’s head that he could only describe as curiosity.

“So, uh, I never got a chance to ask you how your night went last night,” Mark finally managed to say. “Did you sleep well?”

“It was alright. Yeah, it was fine.” Jack answered. “I just stayed in and read most of the night, anyway. Hell, the most exciting thing I did was bake that cake, which is delicious by the way!”

“Oh, I am in no way doubting your baking skills, Jack. You know I’m not gonna leave this place without getting a slice of that cake.”

“Heh, good! I hope you love chocolate.”

“Oh you know I do!”

They shared another chuckle, then silence fell once more. Mark sipped at his tea quietly, giving Jack a few more glances before looking over at the television in front of them. Naturally, the American was not familiar with the program playing in front of him, but after a minute of watching it he was nonetheless curious. With Jack sitting right next to him, he felt a weird urge to ask him about anything, particularly why he was so quick to change the subject whenever Malcolm's place was mentioned. Mark knew it probably had something to do with his visit to America, so he decided to ask him something a little more innocent.

“So, what is this show anyway?”

“Hmm? Oh, it’s The Riordans,” Jack explained. “It’s just some soap opera that’s been goin’ on for six years now. I used to watch it a lot with my sister and Ma when I was little. Now I just leave it on for background noise sometimes.” Jack reached over to grab a cookie from the box.

“I could get up and change it if you like.”

“Oh no, it’s fine! In fact, I’m oddly invested in it in a weird way,” Mark said with a chuckle before he too reached for a chocolate chip cookie from the box and scarfed it down in less than two bites. “Heh, I didn’t expect you to be a fan of soap operas. That’s actually pretty hilarious.”

“Yeah, well, what can I say? I’m an eighty-year-old man trapped in the body of a young person.”

Jack took a bite out of his own cookie and his mind began to wonder. “But yeah, we used to watch it every Sunday after we got back from church. It was quite nice.”

Mark quirked a brow at this. “Church huh?”

“Yep! Used to go every Sunday with the family, and then after that we’d watch television and go out to some restaurant for dinner. It was actually really sweet. I always looked forward to Sundays because of it.”

“More so then Saturdays?” Mark asked.

“Oh, don’t get me wrong, Saturdays were great! There still great, it’s just that Sundays were always more… I guess you’d say cozy? I don’t know, it’s hard to describe.”

Mark pondered this for a moment, nodding a little. “No, I kinda get it. Like when I was a kid, we would just stay home and watch TV all day once Church was over. It was nice, but then I would remember that Monday was the next day and then I’d be sad.”

“Heh, yeah same,” Jack added before taking another sip of tea. “Church and family, those are Sundays for you.”

“Yep.” There was a pause. “So like... do you still go to Church?”

“Well, I kinda stopped going to church when I was around fifteen, but now I’ve started going again as recently as... a year ago, I think? I don’t know, I’m weird like that. It kinda gives me some peace of mind, nowadays.” Jack’s answer was straightforward, but honest. “What about you, Mark?”

Mark fiddled a bit with his fingers against his mug. “I, well... the last time I went to church was the day before I left for Vietnam and I haven’t been back since,” he answered. “I mean, I just didn't see the point in it anymore.  After the war and everything, like... you’re gonna think I’m horrible for saying this, but… I just don’t think I believe in God anymore.”

Mark didn’t know what to expect from Jack after admitting such an otherwise blasphemous statement, but there was no hostility in the other man’s features. Rather, there was something that resembled an expression close to sympathy and understanding.

“Hey, that’s okay. Honestly, I kinda had a feelin’ you felt that way when you called ‘The Exorcist’ pretentious the other night.”

“I’m sorry about that.”

“There's nothin’ to be sorry about, Mark.”

“Still though, I feel bad.”

“Heh, it’s just a book, man,” Jack said with a chuckle.

“It’s not just that, it’s just... everything.” Mark admitted. “I mean, I know we’re human and we always question shit like this but… I think I’ve reached a conclusion that religion and God... is just something that doesn’t make sense to me anymore. I mean after all the shit I’ve seen... If God is supposed to keep people safe, then why is there so much suffering in the world? I know that there’s supposed to be a balance between good and evil, but sometimes it just feels like the evil outweighs the good.” Mark sighed. “I’m sorry if I’m being too depressing with this.”

“Hey it’s okay, you’re not depressing me at all,” Jack said in a reassuring tone, and he actually meant it. The subject of faith had always been a fascinating topic for him. “And there’s nothing wrong with questioning faith. I think everyone does at some point, hell I wouldn’t be surprised if there were others out there who didn’t believe in God either. Those are just the decisions we have to make as individuals, I think.”

This relaxed Mark a bit; Jack was so good at making him feel better. "It just sounds so much more acceptable when you put it that way."

"I try," Jack said calmly. "Like, do you remember the night on the beach when you asked me if I ever questioned my faith?”

Mark nodded. “I remember that, yeah...”

“Well, back during my darkest days, there was a point where I just didn’t believe in God period. Even before then, I didn't give it much thought, but when things were really bad for me, I just kept asking myself ‘Why?’. It really wasn’t ‘til I started getting somewhat better again that I started to rethink some things. I just... I guess you could say I reached a conclusion that I was most comfortable with, if that makes sense.”

Mark gave Jack a curious look. “What made you reach your conclusion?”

“Well, I figured that if there was no God, then there would be no Heaven, right? And then I started thinking about my grandma and it just frightens me to think that she might not be resting there. No ghost, no Heaven, she’s just... gone.” Jack began to feel a pang of sadness in his chest. “I like to think she’s looking down at me, maybe protecting me in her own way? I don’t know, it makes sense considering all that happened in my life... I should have been dead a long time ago.”

A weird, sharp pain went through Mark’s heart when he heard this. Jack’s words were all too relatable and Mark hated that. Mostly because Jack was so sweet and kind, and it hurt Mark to know that he’d had to go through anything traumatic at all. Mark was okay with his issues, he would happily deal with them for the rest of his life if he had to, but he was not okay with Jack suffering the same fate. Jack didn’t deserve that-it just wasn’t fair.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Mark asked quietly.

Jack was quiet, his blood running cold by such a simple question at hand. He knew the right answer would be to say no. There was no point in talking about his sob story with Mark… Mark would want nothing to do with him if he knew the truth. Besides, wasn’t this visit supposed to be free of drama? They were supposed to have a fun evening together, a normal evening, and opening up this can of worms won’t help anything.

And yet, there was another part of Jack, a small part of him that wanted to open up, that wanted to pour his heart out the same way Mark had with him back on the beach. It was only fair that Mark knew the truth, but… he was scared.

What if he told Mark everything and he left him? What if he saw him as the disgrace Jack saw whenever he stared too long into the mirror?

“I... I don’t know. I mean, we’re supposed to be enjoying ourselves and having a normal evening together. That was the whole point of this, right?” Jack chose his words carefully. “Besides, you don’t want to hear me talk about my problems.”

“But I want to help you feel better,” Mark said, putting his mug down on the table. “I mean when I was talking to you about the war and everything, it felt... well, it felt good. It felt so good to finally have someone to talk to about these things and not feel weird about it. I just want to give you that too, that’s all.”

“I know, Mark, I know…” Jack was touched, perhaps more so than he’d been on the beach when Mark had opened up to him. He was really making this hard on him… maybe he should just confess it all right there and now. “It’s just…

No. He can’t do this. This was supposed to be a normal evening.

 _This is a normal evening_ , Jack told himself, _there’s nothing weird going on. We’re normal. This is normal._

_No it’s not._

Was it getting hot in here?

_This is not normal._

Why was his chest hurting?

_There’s nothing normal about you._

“Jack?”

Why couldn’t he hold his mug straight?

“M-Mark, I’m… I’m fine,” Jack lied, putting his mug down before it slipped out of his hand. “I just... I’m fine. Really I am!”

Why the fuck was he shaking?

Oh God, no.

Not now, please God, not now!

“Holy shit, Jack!” Mark’s blood grew cold, a wave of fear washing over him as he realized what was happening to Jack. It was something that Mark was all too familiar with and even though it terrified him, Mark wouldn’t dare show it. Quickly, he reached over to the TV and turned it off before hurrying to Jack’s side, speaking in the calmest voice he could muster. “Is there anything you need me to get for you?”

Jack was trembling, hugging himself for dear life. His body was on fire, his mind and heart were racing, the latter feeling as if it was about to burst out of his chest. Everything felt like it was going to attack him all at once, like his apartment was getting smaller and smaller and he couldn’t stop it. There was no controlling this now, this was happening, it was hitting him hard and there was no way of stopping it like he used to. Worst of all though, it was all happening while Mark was there and Jack wanted to cry, but he was in too much pain to do so.

“I-I don’t… it hurts...” he muttered. It was all he could say.

“Don’t worry, you’re okay.” Mark said calmly. “Just take a few deep breaths and I’ll count to ten. Can you do that?”

Jack nodded and took a long slow intake of air. He could hear Mark counting slowly and calmly as he did so. Mark repeated the same counting once he’d exhaled as well, breath in, breath out, over and over again.

“That’s it…” Mark muttered through his breaths. “Just focus on breathing with me…”

This went on for a good few minutes. Mark even joined in with breathing as well and Jack was quick to pick up on it. It helped with the chest pains, not by much, but it still helped nonetheless, and the way Mark would say things like ‘You’re doing so good’, or ‘It’s okay, I’m here for you,’ made everything feel less scary.

“Do you have medicine for this?” Mark asked in the same calm voice as before.

Jack shook his head.

“Are you still in pain?”

“Feels a bit better…” Jack said meekly. “My heart... it’s better.”

Okay, that was a good sign.

“Good, good. Just concentrate on breathing, okay?”

Jack nodded and went back to breathing, as did Mark, for another few minutes, until his chest finally stopped hurting. Unfortunately, this allowed his stomach to get hit with a sudden wave of nausea. Jack whimpered and wrapped his arms about his belly. He didn’t like throwing up, no one did, but Jack especially did not like it.

“M-Mark, I feel sick...”

Mark was once more on high alert, but again spoke calmly. “Do you need to throw up?”

Jack nodded and Mark quickly got out of the other man’s way as he hurried over to the bathroom and collapsed in front of the toilet. Mark followed after him but continued to give Jack his space. It pained him to watch Jack like this but, he refused to leave. Jack needed him more than ever and to leave his side now would be madness. Even with as much as he’d helped Jack before, it still hurt that there was very little he could do for him now. Oh, what Mark would give to just rub Jack’s back in a soothing way or take away what Jack was going through altogether.

By the time Jack was done throwing up, he was panting softly, his body weak, but his overall spirit feeling better. Attacks like these always ended with him throwing up for some reason and by the time he finished, his body would once more find peace.

“O-oh God…” he muttered, grabbing a few tissues from the box that was perched on his toilet to wipe his face. “Holy shit…”

“How are you feeling?”

Jack blinked and turned to see that Mark was standing outside his bathroom door, a look of concern carved into his face. “I... better, much better.”

“Is there anything you need right now?”

Jack shook his head. “No…”

“Do you wanna lay down?”

“...Yeah…”

A half hour passed after the attack. Jack was currently laying down on his couch, a warm blanket wrapped around him courtesy of his guest. Mark had pulled over one of the chairs from the kitchen and was sitting beside the recovering young man. Jack looked tired, more tired than Mark had ever been, even after recovering from an attack like that.

“Thank you, Mark…” Jack finally said. “You really saved my arse back there.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” Make said in a soothing tone. “Panic attacks are not fun.”

“I’m really sorry about all this.” Jack’s voice started to crack a little. “I never wanted this to happen...”

“No, Jack don’t say that! None of this is your fault! I mean, it was completely out of your control! Hell, you probably know that better than I do.”

“I just wanted us to have a normal day together…”

“But we are!”

“No, we're not, don’t you get it!?” Jack snapped, sitting himself up and giving Mark a frustrated look, his eyes tinted red, as though he were on the verge of crying. “Mark... there is nothin’ normal about me! A-About any of this! Believe me, I know what normal used to be like and this isn’t it! Everyday before work I have to tell myself to stop thinkin’ about negative shit because I can’t even function normally once I do! There was a point where I never used to be like that! When I was young, I used to not give a shit about anythin’ and it fuck’s me up inside knowin’ that I can never be like that anymore and... fuckin’ hell, why do you even put up with me?!”

“Jack, listen to me,” Mark said, getting up from his seat and raising his voice in equal frustration, “do you really think I care about what the fuck normal is? I mean, you always talk about normal like it’s this fucking thing that needs to be obtained or some shit, but let me tell you, it’s not! Having problems doesn’t make you abnormal, in fact I think it’s what makes us the most human!”

Mark had no idea where the hell this was coming from and by the looks of it, neither did Jack, but he meant every damn word of it.

“Do you really think I hang out with you because someone is forcing me to? Because I’m expecting something ‘normal’?! Of-fucking-course not! I hang out with you because you’re my friend! Because I enjoy your company! In fact, by that logic I should be asking you why you put up with me too! I mean, look at me and all the bullshit that’s happened in my life! Would anyone consider that normal?”

Mark then began to fiddle with the buttons on his shirt, which sent a wave of terror through Jack, but the fear was quickly replaced with shock when he saw the large, pale bullet scar just near the other man’s collarbone. “I mean, I certainly didn’t get this scar under normal circumstances. Hell, the damn thing is still in there. Would anyone consider that normal, Jack?”

There was no anger in Mark’s voice anymore. He seemed to calm down significantly once he showed Jack the bullet wound. Even so, Jack still felt guilty. Everything Mark had said began to resonate in his head and there was a lot of truth to it. Soon Jack’s features begin to soften and he looked down slightly. This was all it took for Mark to completely calm down as well.

Mark sighed and sat back down in his seat. “It’s frustrating. Trust me, if anyone knows better about how frustrating it is, it’s me. I struggle through this shit a lot and it sucks. I know I’m not a miracle worker, but I just want you to know you’re not alone in this, Jack. I just want you to be happy and comfortable... for both of us to be happy.” He paused then, feeling uncomfortable. “I, uh... didn't mean for that to come off so sappy, but I think you get what I mean.”

Jack let out a weak chuckle as he looked back up at Mark. “I can deal with a little bit of sap from time to time, thanks.” He sighed and settled back down on the couch. “You know, a lot of what you said... you’re right and I know you’re right. I just wish that I’d known about it sooner.”

“Hey, I didn't even know about it myself. I guess I just... I don't know….” After saying so much, Mark felt suddenly awkward and uncertain of what to say to the other man.

“Well, even so... you’re a really sweet person, Mark, and I’m happy you’re so nice to me.”

“I’m happy you’re so nice to me too…”

Jack gave another weak chuckle. “I wish I could be nicer to you, though. In fact, I just realized that I've been a terrible host.”

Mark snickered at this. “Oh stop, you’re the greatest host there is.”

“You’re too much, Mark.”

“It's part of my weird charm.”

Another moment of silence and both men were content once more. Mark reached for his mug and guzzled down the last of his tea and Jack was finally comfortable enough to sit up and go back to sipping from his mug and nibbling on another pie. He needed to fill his belly up again, and the tea and pies were the perfect remedy for that.

“You want me to get you anything else, Jack?” Mark asked.

Jack only shook his head. “No, I'm good, but I think…” He was really gonna do this, it was only fair. “I never did tell you about what happened when I went to America…”

Mark’s eyes widened at this, a mix of shock, curiosity, and concern rolling around inside his head. And as always, it was the concern that outweighed everything else. “Jack, wait, maybe you should rest a bit first. I mean, you’ve been through a lot already and I don’t want to see you get stressed or anything.”

“No Mark, it’s fine. I’m fine.” Jack asserted. “I want to be honest with you. I think it’s important that you know since we're really gonna be friends like this. Besides, I did say that I would keep my lips sealed unless you told me your story and since you’ve kept your end of the deal, I think it’s only appropriate if I kept mine.”

Mark nodded in understanding. “Only if you want too.”

“I do.”

“Then I’m all ears.”

As Mark sat patiently, ready to listen, Jack tried to decide on where to start. He was nervous, there was so much to talk about and all of it dreadful, but if Mark was brave enough to tell him about the war then Jack knew he could find the bravery to tell him about his trip to America. “I guess I should start with when I first came to this town and met Vianne.”


	14. Reflections Of My Life - Track 02

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feel I'm dying, dying
> 
> Take me back to my own home.
> 
> -The Marmalade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh wow, this took forever to get done, I'm so sorry you guys! Work has been keeping me busy and the writer's block certainly hasn't helped things, I'm just so happy I'm finally able to get this story updated! Will have it beta'd soon.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

“I met Vianne when I was vacationin’ here a few years ago, this place was somethin’ of a family tradition you see. We’d all used to come here once a year during the summer mostly to enjoy the beach and what not, but you know how life works. My brothers and sisters are older and most of them had families of their own already by the time I was seventeen. So that year, I just decided to go down by myself with a few friends from home. The summers here are really nice, you’ll see what I mean once the weather gets warmer. Anyway, we were staying at Malcolm's at the time and that’s when I first ran into her. I just settled into my room and she was hangin’ out by the fire. When I headed downstairs and saw her, we locked eyes for a moment and she asked me to sit next to her. She was this gorgeous redhead from New York, hell she was even three years older then me and at the time I thought it was excitin’. Here I was, seventeen and stupid and here was this beautiful older woman from another country who was asking me to sit next to her. I was a bit nervous at first, but she was able to make me feel comfortable the more we talked. 

Vianne was nice to me, we just drank beer, smoked weed, and talked about simple things. Things like where we where from and what we did, stuff like that you know? Even though I was younger, she never once made fun of me for it, she treated me like any other adult and it was great. I introduced her to the beach and my drumset and she introduced me to Bob Dylan and the joys of LSD. At the time I was so head over heals for Vivanne, she was sweet, outgoing, had a bit of an edge to her, and I just loved every bit of her.

She made me feel special.”

Jack paused for a moment to take out his pack of cigarettes. Maybe not the best thing to take after coming over a panic attack, but the tobacco served as a good distraction for him.

“Things don’t last forever though, summer was over and I needed to get back home and so did she. I felt so miserable that day, I didn’t want to part from her and I knew how far away New York was. However, it was our last night together when she asked me about moving to New York City with her. I was shocked at first, I didn’t think she would actually ask me to come with her, but she did and well, I was ecstatic.” Another pause, this time to take in a puff of smoke from his cigarette. “I could of said no, I should've said no, but instead I said yes. I’ve only known this girl for a couple of weeks and already I was eager to move across the pond with her because I was that stupid and that in love with her...”

Jack grew quiet for a moment.

“It’s funny,” he continued, “that was the first night I made love with that girl, or any girl for that matter...I’m so stupid...so fuckin’ stupid...”

“Jack…”

“N-no, I’m fine...I’m just gettin’ side tracked again…”

Mark wanted to say something but Jack was quick to continue.

“The plan was to move out around September and meet at that airport in New York, JKF I think it’s called? Yeah I think that’s it. When the date came closer, it knew it was going to be time to tell my parents and at the time I didn’t have the best relationship with them. I was a rebel and they were at their wits end with me. When I told them I was moving over to America with my girlfriend, well they didn’t take it too well. We fought, we yelled, I said some nasty things that I don’t feel like repeating, and that mornin’ I packed my bags and left. I took a cab to the airport, bought a ticket, and hopped on the first plane flying out to New York. I didn’t even bother saying goodbye to anyone when I left, I didn’t see the point in it. I was so angry and worked up I just wanted to get the hell out of Ireland as fast as possible. Heh, I remember when I first landed in New York, oh God I was so happy back then. It was so big and vast and everything felt like it was moving at lightspeed, it was unlike anything I ever experienced back in Ireland. I mean...have you ever been to New York, Mark?”

“Can’t say I have, always wanted to though.”

“It’s...something, it’s hard not to fall in love with it the first time you go to visit it.” Jack explained. “It’s big, it’s chaotic and yet organized at the same time. It really lives up to it’s name on being a concrete jungle, like it felt industrial yet organic at the same time and everyone living within it always had things to do and places to go. It honestly felt like everythin’ was going fast. It’s funny, back home I would always joke about how time was on a standstill but in New York it was like someone pressed the fast forward button and they had no intentions of stopping it. Everythin’ felt so alive, so vibrant at first. The skyscrapers, holly shit the skyscrapers were just massive! Like giant trees made of cement and glass just blocking out the sky, yet it’s even crazier when you realize just how many people were just livin’ inside them. I mean, God I always thought that Dublin was big, but after visiting that city it made Dublin look like a small neighborhood in comparison. I admit everythin’ was so intimidatin’ when I first got there. I was a little scared at first, I mean I grew up in a rural area and my parents were farmers, but I still fell in love with it nonetheless. Needless to say, it was unlike anythin’ I’ve ever experienced before and being with Vianne made it all the more amazing, at least back then it did.”

Jack paused to inhale from his cigarette again. 

“She took me to the apartment and introduced me to Josh, he was our roommate and a really awesome guy. I really miss Josh, he was just so sweet and easy to talk to, I also remember him being very good with the guitar. The apartment was small but I didn’t mind, to me it was great, everythin’ was great. I was living in New York with my girlfriend, made friends with an awesome roommate and even got a job at a music store not too far from the apartment. I mean I had to do somethin’ to support myself and I didn’t want any help from my parents. On top of that there were nights where we would perform at a could of bars and I would just play the drums like it was no one’s business, it was fun! Livin’ on my own, playin’ music, and being miles away from my old life back in Ireland . Heh, I mean what was gonna stop us? Everythin’ just felt so perfect and simple back then, at least that’s what it felt like.”

Another pause, this time to let out a small sigh. 

“Then well...it just...everythin’ changed after the party…”

“Party?”   


“After three months of living together, we...threw this party in our apartment it was kinda like a late housewarming party if anything. We invited a punch of people that we knew from work and they invited people that they knew. We just smoked weed, talked, listened to Bob Dylan...and…” There was a brief pause. “Vianne introduced me to heroine for the first time, I never tried anyhthin’ beyond weed and LSD, so at the time I was curious. I’m not gonna lie to you, heroine feels really fucking good, too good actually. I…”

There was another pause, it was longer than the first one.

“I...it put me out of it, I didn’t know what was happening at first it just...we were on the couch and Vianne she started to unbuckle my jeans and…I…”

_ “Oh God, I love you!” _

Jack was starting to shake, Mark was quick to notice this and sat up. Both with concern of the possibility of Jack having another panic attack and the fact that he had a good idea as to what happened that night at the party.

“Jack...”

“I-I’m fine I just...it’s still hard for me to talk about,” Jack held onto himself and and bit his lip gently, he didn’t have the strength to look at make in the eye anymore. He didn’t know how Mark was gonna react or what he would say. “Long story short...she raped me. On the couch in front of everyone, and I tried to say somethin’ but everythin’ was happenin’ so fast. I mean, fuck the needle was still in my arm when it happened.”

Mark’s eyes widened in shock by this, all his life he was told about the horrors of what happens when a man rapes a woman, but never once was he told about the reverse happening. In fact back hope the notion was practically unheard of, but here was Jack confessing to be a victim of such and act. By the way he was shaking, Mark was in no position to doubt the Irishman and it broke his heart. The only thing stopping Mark from pulling Jack into a tight embrace was the fact that it would do nothing but make the situation work. 

“Jack, I-I’m so sorry I…I didn’t even know that was possible.”

“Neither did I, I know it’s strange to talk about, but it’s true...it’s embarrasin’.”

Mark frowned, feeling more hurt and angry for Jack. “Listen, you know I would never laugh or make fun of you over something like that. I don’t blame you for being embarrassed, I would too, but I’m not someone to belittle you about it. I’m not.”

Jack felt a tinge of relief by this, he was happy that Mark wasn’t the type to judge him. In a way it almost made him feel silly for feeling so nervous earlier. In a lot of ways, Jack felt grateful and lucky to come in contact with someone like Mark, he wasn’t sure if there was anyone out there quite like him. 

“Thanks Mark, you’re really sweet.” Jack smiled at him briefly before continuing.

“The next day, I was still tryin’ to process what had happened. I mean, men don’t get raped right? Unless it’s by another guy or something, but never by a woman. I kept trying to tell myself that, but every day I just felt nervous to be around her. Vianne went and told me that everything was a blur to her that night, but I don’t know. All I know is that even after that I tried to brush things aside and act like everything was normal again. Vianne was my girlfriend and I loved her, all I wanted was to just make her happy. Meanwhile I couldn’t fuckin’ sleep, I was always stressed whenever she touched me, I even started lashing out at people for even the smallest thing, and they didn’t deserve that. Vianne would always always ask me what was wrong and I didn’t have the stomach to tell her, though she understood to give me my space when I asked for it. The only thing that honestly helped me was the heroine. I was hooked on the stuff at this point, I may not have liked it whenever Vianne touched me, but the heroine took my mind off it. It made me happy, it gotten so bad that I couldn’t even have sex with her without having a hit.”

I think they were worried about me, at least Josh was because he pulled me aside to talk to me one day. I just got back from the record store and I had no idea where Vianne was, she was either at work or getting some weed I wasn’t sure, but Josh was there. I think he must of had some kind of idea that something was wrong with me, well no, he did know that something was wrong with me. I was just kinda relieved that it was him talking to me then Vianne, it’s weird at the time I felt guilty for being more comfortable with him then my actual girlfriend.    


“Jack was sitting on the couch when Josh entered the room, the Irishman had just got back from work and he was feeling exhausted. At first, he just really wanted to be alone and sleep for the next twelve hours, but Josh was here and he was always willing to make an exception for Josh.

_ “Hey, man, are you busy?” Josh asked, his voice sounding a bit more concerned than to what Jack was used to. _

_ “Uh no, I’m free,” Jack answered, “what’s up?”  _

_ “Oh nothing it’s just...Sean is everything okay?” _

_ Jack frowned. “What do you mean?” _

_ “It’s just...I noticed that you’ve been kind of out of it for the past few months. Like, you sleep a lot, you’re alarmingly more quiet then what I’m used too, and the only time I see you is when you leave for the record store.” _

_ Jack’s eyes furrowed. “I get tired from work, I don’t know why that would raise any alarm for concern.” _

_ Josh frowned. “Hey, there’s no need to get defensive, I’m just asking if you’re okay.”  _

_ “I’m fine!” Jack practically snapped, “Why? Did Vianne tell you i’m not alright? I mean fuck, did she tell you to talk to me?!” _

_ “What? No!” Josh cried out. “I mean...look, she didn’t ask me to do anything, but I noticed that you guys have been fighting. A lot. Like, is everything okay with you two?” _

_ Jack grew silent and slowly looked down, did he make it really that obvious?  _

_ “Not really? It’s not horrible, but...I mean I don’t know…” _

_ “Are you thinking of breaking up with her, is that it?”  Josh asked, “I mean you don’t have to worry about her being upset if you did, because I don’t think she would care. I mean, you know how she is.”  _

_ Jack knew that Josh meant well, but hearing that didn’t make him feel all the more better. Jack was the one who had given up everything for this girl just to be with the woman h _

_ “I-I’ve considered it but, I don’t know. It’s just...hard. I love her so much Josh, and she must love me back because if she didn’t, don’t you think she would have broken up with me by now, right?” _

_ “Of course she does!” Josh insisted, “Look, have you thought of maybe talking to her? I think that might help if you guys are having issues or whatever. I could even talk to her if you like-” _

_ “No! No...I’ll handle it okay? I’m sorry I’m like this, it’s just...I’ll talk to her when I can.” _

_ “Alright man, look if you need anything let me know okay? I always got your back.” _

_ Jack smiled, “Thanks Josh, you’re a real good friend…” _

“That was the last time I’ve seen Josh, or Vianne for that matter. I never did get a chance to talk to her...”

“What happened?” 

“That night, something happened...something really fucked up. Josh and Vianne were heading out to go to some party or somethin’, I don’t even remember. They asked me if I wanted to come, but I was tired, I decided to stay in and that’s exactly what I did. I stayed home, took a hit, and went to sleep. I don’t know what time it was when I heard that knock on the door, but it was still dark out and I was a little confused. Josh and Vianne both had keys of there own, but I figured that maybe they just forgot them? I don’t know.”

“Was it them?”

“No...it was the police…”

Mark quirked a brow at this. ‘The police?”

“They...they were gone, just like that. Killed by some fuckin’ thug with a knife because he was running low on his dealer.”

“Holy shit...Jack…”

“It’s just weird, it was just such a blur to what I felt at the time because I was so fucking devastated about Josh. Hell I still do to this day! I mean, fuck why him? He had nothing to do with any of this bullshit! I mean there are nights where I think about how I could have been able to stop it, maybe I could have been able to save him? I don’t know. Yet at the same time that would have meant I would have saved her and...at the time I was torn up about Josh and yet...when I Viannie, like I wasn’t happy about what happened but I just felt relieved. Can you believe it? I mean, she was my girlfriend and I was suppose to love her, I was suppose to fucking protect her, but she was gone.

I wasn’t there to save her, she was gone, and I felt relieved. I didn’t like it, it made me feel like a monster. I thought that maybe there was something genuinely wrong with me? I mean what guy is gonna be relieved when his girlfriend get fuckin’ murdered unless there a fuckin’ serial killer?”

“Jack, she hurt you,” Mark said softly, “I mean, I don’t blame you for feeling like that.” 

“Feelin’ guilty?”

“No, for feeling relieved, like I said she hurt you and she made you feel stressed. I understand why you would feel guilty, but there was nothing wrong with feeling what you’ve felt. It doesn’t make you a monster, shit I know what monsters are and you’re anything but.” 

Jack felt a bit better at this, it was a bittersweet feeling at best. “I know that now, but it still doesn't change the fact that there dead, Josh is fuckin’ dead! I mean maybe if I was there-” 

“No! It’s not your fault Jack, none of that was your fault! Besides, had you gone with them then who knows what would have happened, you would have ended up killed too.”

“Did I ever tell you that you remind me of my sister, but more angry?”

“I’m sorry but it’s true, just...please, you have to believe me on this. No one knows this better than me, trust me.”

Jack only nodded, of course Mark would tell im this. After everything that the other man had told him that night on the beach, Jack knew that there was no point in arguing. “I wish I was strong like you, you know?”

There was a look of bitter uncertainty in Mark’s eyes, “I’m not strong.”

“Stronger than I am, that’s for damn sure! You know I was completely fucked after that happened, I couldn't even leave the fuckin’ apartment after that. Hell I don’t even know how long it was till my landlord finally had enough and kicked me out. Not that I blame him of course, I stopped going to work after that night and my landlord just wasn’t havin’ it anymore. That was the first of many nights I spent on the streets of New York. I don’t remember all the details, except that it was just hell, plain and simple. I was so far gone with guilt and depression God Mark, my addiction...it was so fuckin’ bad…like even before it was horrible, but I was so far gone with my guilt and depression I…”

Mark was quick to sense Jack’s hesitation.

“Jack, if it’s too painful, please you don’t have to say it.”

Jack took a deep breath, yes it was painful, everythin' up to this point has been painful. Just thinking about it made him want to vomit. “Let’s just say that I did a lot of shitty things just for a used needle. I don’t feel like talking about those things, but just know that they were gross and awful.” Jack muttered before rubbing his eye and letting out a bitter chuckle, “Can you even imagine anything more sad and pathetic? Like...I know I should have just flew back to Ireland after getting kicked out, but I was so scared. I know it sounds very dumb to say now, but I was only a kid at the time and well like I said I just packed up and left without a word. At the time I hated them, and I convinced myself that they hated me. I honest to God thought that I had no one and that they wouldn’t want me back. Plus, no one would have wanted me back had they known what had become of me. Who wants a junkie piece of shit for a son to come back home to them? I either had the choice to be homeless on the street in New York or be homeless on the street in Ireland, and I felt that the latter was the less humiliating alternative.” 

“So I lived on the streets for almost three months, I slept in the subway and I dug for food in trash cans. I probably would have kept doin’ it too until I started to feel sick. I was running low on heroin and everythin’ just hurt. I didn’t know what was wrong with me, I honestly thought I was dying! Now I know that I was going through a drug withdrawal, but at the time I had no fuckin’ clue what was happening to me. I was sweaty, I felt nauseous, and oh God I couldn’t stop shaking. It hurt so bad that I couldn’t even move, everything was such a blur and I was so scared. I tried to endure it but everyday it just got worse, I had no one to get a fix from and one day it just got so bad that before I knew it everything started to fade to black.”

“Next thing I knew I found myself at the hospital, I don’t know how I got there, but there I was. At first I thought I was dead, that I was in some weird purgatory, but by some miracle I was alive. It was such a blur to me, I felt so numb, so emotionally drained that I couldn’t even focus on what the doctor was saying. All I knew what that I just had enough, was tired of New York, tired of the situation I was in, and tired of puttin’ myself through any more abuse. I missed my siblings, my parents, my bed...I just wanted to go home.”

“When I was at the hospital, I wrote a letter to my sister, I had no money so it was all I had to reach out to her. It took a few days for her to get it, but when she did, she was right there in the hospital. I was so happy to see her again, I also felt embarrassed, but still happy nonetheless. Of coarse I had to stay there a bit longer because the doctors didn’t think I was okay to get out just yet, but knowing that she was there made me feel a bit more safe. Then the night I checked out, night we hopped on the first plane headin’ out to Ireland.” 

“Christ Jack, I’m just glad you were finally able to get out of there.” 

“Yeah same, my family said the same thing. I was so scared that they would hate me, but no, they were just so relieved to know that I was home and safe, It felt really surreal. Just bein’ back in Ireland where everyone knew my name and loved me with open arms. My family’s home was basically located in the middle of nowhere, nothin’ but forest and fields.” Jack began to hug himself subconsciously. “It’s funny, when I was younger I used to hate it, that i was living in some wasteland, but after wasting away in that concrete jungle that was New York, I felt strangely at peace. No skyscrapers, no pollution, on large abundance of people pushin’ you around left and right. It was just peace, I never thought I would feel so content to be home again and for a split moment, I almost believed it. I didn’t want to even remember any of it. I thought when I got home and adjusted things would get better, but…”

“It always finds a way to catch up to you.”

Jack sighed and nodded in responce, grateful that Mark knew what he meant. “I...I tried everything, I tried working with Pa on the farm, I went for walks, I helped Ma with the kitchen, hell I even tried reading books through the whole night because I was so scared of sleeping, but nothing worked. Everytime I close my eyes I was back in New York, I’m either getting violated by my girlfriend or being assaulted by some bum on the street. I think they must have noticed that something was wrong, because they kept asking me if I was okay. Maybe it was because I was quiet? Because I always tensed up when they tried to hug me? I don’t know. Maybe it was a bit of both, I never was good at keeping my emotions to myself.” Jack ran a hand through his hair. “It’s not like I told them what happened to me when I was over there, because what was I gonna tell them? That I was raped by my girlfriend? That I became some heroin junkie because of it? That I lived on the streets for three months and almost died from a drug withdrawal? I couldn’t...I was too embarrassed, too disgusted. I didn’t want to hurt them any more than I already have, so I didn’t tell them. Then finally, I just...when my sister Lauren came over one day...I trusted her and I ending up telling her everything. The rapes, the homelessness, the addiction...we both cried together that night, we held onto each other and cried. I...I think I told you this before but, the only person I ever felt fully comfortable being hugged by was my sister. I’ve gotten better with Ma and Pa, but I’ve always trusted my sister, I mean...at least I thought I could.”

“Why? What happened?”

“After I confessed to her, I told her not to tell anyone, but she ends up telling my parents.”

“What the-”

“I know, I know!” Jack said quickly once he sensed the anger in Mark’s voice. “What she did was wrong and believe me she apologized for it, please don’t be angry at her...because what I did next really wasn’t her fault.”

“...What do you mean?”

“I...I didn’t take it well, I screamed at her really badly and made her cry. I screamed at pretty much everyone. I was just so overwhelmed, and sad, and sick, I just…I just couldn’t take it anymore so I...”

Jack paused to carefully roll up his sleeves, on that instance Mark’s blood ran cold when he saw first hand the two red scars that stood out against the pale skin of Jack’s wrists. 

“Oh my God, Jack…”

Another wave and guilt and shame washed over Jack once more. “That night I went to the bathroom and took out Pa’s straight razor. I almost died right then and there in the bathroom, but instead I woke up in the hospital again, hehe it’s funny how that just keeps happenin’ to me, but at least I knew how I got there that time around. Apparently Ma found me in the tub…”

Jack paused, he could feel his eyes start to tear up. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Mark in the eye. Not after everything he told him or not after exposing his scars to him. 

Jack just couldn’t. 

“Y-You know, they could have just left me there if they wanted too, that’s what people do with mental hospitals. They would just toss people there and never come back for them, but they didn’t do that. Hell, M-Ma could have just left me in the tub and wouldn’t have blamed her for it. I mean I’m such a burden to them, I-I don’t deserve them..I n-never did, I-”

Jack couldn’t hold it in anymore. 

Curling into himself, he buried his face into his arms and started to cry. He didn’t even care if Mark was watching him because everything just fucking hurt, almost four years and Jack was still dealing with the aftermath of everything and he hated it. He knew this shit would be with him for the rest of his life and he hated it more then anything. He hate Vianne, he hate New York, he hate the United States, but most of all Jack hated himself for being so naive. He hated himself for being so dumb, for allowing all this trauma to happen to himself. Jack didn’t even notice the sound of Mark getting up from the chair, nor did he noticed it when the other man sat beside him on the couch. 

“Jack, I know I never met your family, but they really do sound like amazing people who love you, you know they were never abandon you like that! No one deserves them more than you!”

“I-I just...I’m such a fuckin’ disapiontment...I-I’m so fuckin’-”

Jack couldn’t speak, it was all gibberish now as all he could do was sob, the feeling was pure anguish and it made Mark’s heart rip in pieces. The American opened his mouth to speak but had no words to give. He wanted to put his hand on Jack, to pull him into a tight, long embrace and tell him that everything was okay and for a second he almost did. However, the veteran quickly stopped himself before he even had a chance to bring himself to move, as Jack shifted himself further away towards Mark mostly out of instinct. Just having Mark as close as he was made the Irishman feel very uneasy, but he wasn’t sure why as he was fine being on the couch with him earlier. Thinking quickly, Mark quickly grabbed for the thick blanket that was bunched in a small mountain on the floor and carefully wrapped it around Jack’s leaner frame. The contact startled Jack at first, but quickly became relieved that it was only just the blanket.

He sniffled. “W-what?”

“I...I know that you have issues with being touched and I understand why” Mark said quietly. “There’s really nothing I’d wanna do more than to hug you, but...but I think a blanket could work just fine too.”

Jack was surprised by this, but nodded nonetheless as he clung himself around the soft warm fabric of the blanket. He continued to weep softly, but the blanket was surprisingly helpful, in Jack’s mind he imagined it was being wrapped in tight embrace of another human being.   

**Author's Note:**

> My tumblr is http://jerseydoodle.tumblr.com/  
> If anyone's interested stop in to say hi if you have the chance.


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